


Be Mine So I Can Be Yours

by Meowbowwow



Series: The Dominant Species [1]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - BDSM, Anal Sex, Bottom!Thorin, D/s AU, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Oral Sex, SO MUCH FLUFF, Top!Bilbo, it is like an au, it isn't exactly a dom-sub fic, this might be more appropriate
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-26
Updated: 2015-08-27
Packaged: 2018-03-15 09:34:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 25,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3442208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meowbowwow/pseuds/Meowbowwow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set in Dom/Sub AU where people are either doms, subs or switches. Thorin meets a certain sub and behaves like a lovestuck teen in his head while he is all majestic on the outside. That is, until he realises that the sub in question needs his care. Fluff that might rot your teeth. Followed by misunderstanding and glorious smut. And the fact that Bilbo isn't the one who needs caring (hint: it's thick headed dwarf kings).</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

  
If Thorin were to be honest, it started way before the trolls, quite possibly when the door was opened and he set his eyes on the small creature. Despite the fact that Bilbo Baggins looked as flummoxed in his own home as Thorin and constantly played with his suspenders in a way that was _not at all_ endearing as the King would have everyone know, was _not_ burglar material at all and, in all probability, went about as a switch* – there was a nagging feeling at the back of his mind. In short, age old dom instincts that, if Thorin was being overly critical of himself, he should have recognised instantly.

  
He was disapproving of the halfling from the get go, sniping and sneering every chance he got. It was a sort of defence mechanism really. There was nothing more important than the quest and Thorin would simply not stand for delectable looking creatures looking up at him with their soulful eyes and making him stumble like a teenager in front of his own company. No sir, he would not.

  
And then the trolls happened. Disgusting creatures holding his- no, _the_ burglar as he thrashed about and the instant his eyes met with Thorin’s - a silent plea pouring out of him in waves that almost drowned the would be King - his sword clattered on to the ground and his company followed.

  
Thorin looked in awe as the halfling proved himself to be quite a capable burglar and got them out of that sticky situation. He was the only one who had the wits to stall and Thorin had to grudgingly admit that Gandalf had made a decent enough choice. Thorin’s feelings were his own problem and if the Company noticed him stealing quick glances towards the hobbit, they had the good sense to remain quiet.

  
Every time he looked at the hobbit after that, he wanted nothing more than to wrap him in his arms and pet him, have him nuzzle against his cheek and kiss him till they were both as drowned as he was. But all he could do was keep his thanks to himself and moreover, even if he tried a somber and open expression, it came out as a scowl and Bilbo slowly backed away from him, so why bother. Thorin put all his attention to dealing with the elves Gandalf had led them all towards. He tried his best to breathe through his mouth all the while because their disgusting scent and calmness was infuriating him more than his own feelings.

  
What annoyed him more, however, was the way the hobbit’s eyes lit up when they arrived at Rivendell. This was when he noticed the slight shift in his stance; his shoulders became straighter and he had a small smile almost bursting out of his face and Thorin bristled inwardly, annoyed that he wasn’t the one who put it there.

  
It was also the time when realisation stuck him - the hobbit hadn’t been himself since the trolls. He had twice made eye-contact with Thorin and the King had resolutely ignored the glance that seemed to bore holes at the back of his head because he knew if he saw that face one more time, he’d probably trample a few dwarves in his effort to claim Bilbo's mouth and kiss him till they were out of breath.

  
However, now that the dwarves were seated across the table (and for once, their stomachs weren’t grumbling) Thorin let his attention flit around the room unhindered, falling on the empty space between Kili and Bofur. He chanced a peek at the balcony while the company was busy moaning about the food and their burglar wasn’t there either. In fact, he was nowhere to be seen and for a second, Thorin’s heart almost dropped in his stomach. _Where was the halfling?_

  
He decided that the best thing to do would be to look for the hobbit himself because he was so on edge from the lack of sleep and that damnen elven stench that he knew he would snap at someone, naming no names (Gandalf), if they so much as smirked on his mention of the halfling. He would just visit the hobbit’s room and congratulate him on their lucky escape. This was fine; friends and fellow fighters did this all the time, right? Right.

  
He quietly made his way through the intricate hallways of Rivendell and in his solace, he could admire the elves for their craftsmanship. The halls had this eerie quality that made Thorin feel they were always cool and bright, no matter what the weather or time. He walked past his own door to the hobbit’s room, noticing that his– _the_ \- burglar had been placed in the room adjacent to his. He schooled his features, trying to look as comforting and friendly as possible. If he had had access to a mirror, Thorin would have realised that he just looked somewhere in the middle of a grimace and an angry rant. He knocked once and opened the door.

  
“Master Burg-” Thorin stopped mid-sentence at the sight before his eyes. Bilbo was sitting on a chair entirely too large for him, his head between his knees and slow pants leaving his mouth like he couldn’t breathe. His knuckles were white as they gripped the top of his calves and it almost seemed like he was so lost in his own mind that he hadn’t even noticed Thorin.

  
“Bilbo!” Thorin rushed to him and was next to the chair in two quick strides. Faintly, he registered that this was the first time he had used their burglar’s real name but this wasn’t the time to dwell on those realisations. He went down on his knees and tentatively reached over to the small hand that almost seemed limp as he squeezed it.  
"Thorin, it's you... I can't- can't breathe." Bilbo spoke without looking up, voice raspy, and it cut Thorin when he made out his slightly apologetic tone. Thorin knew exactly what the hobbit was going through. The dwarves called it a ‘drop’ and it was a term used for a stage subs reached after they had gone through an extreme mental or physical ordeal and needed to be cared for. Of course, Thorin had never seen it first hand but he recognised the symptoms instantly. The quick breathing, the sweating, and his own reaction to it - the need to reach out and wrap himself around the sub in question.

  
“Bilbo…” he whispered again, trying his best to be soothing and calm, his thumb quietly tracing the whitened knuckles. As if Bilbo had suddenly just registered his ability to move, he looked up and his eyes were red, tear tracks running down his face. There was something else there - shame and embarrassment, hidden but plain for anyone to see.  
"I put the company in danger... I should have stayed in Shire. I am so sorry," he mumbled, averting his eyes.

  
“Shh, it’s okay. It’s alright, you’re alright,” comforting words Thorin didn’t know he possessed poured out of his mouth. He had never heard his own voice drop so low but the way Bilbo’s hand almost leapt to his lapels made him glad for it. His own hand strayed into unbraided hair, quietly petting while he whispered little consolations and encouragements in Bilbo’s hair.

  
Bilbo seemed to be muttering apologies over and over under his breath and Thorin brushed them off, his hand circling the waist he had longed to hold for so long but not like this, never like this. “I’m sorry,” came another choked admission and something broke inside Thorin.

  
“Shh, there is nothing to apologise for.” Bilbo rubbed his face against Thorin’s chest at that. It was true, the incident of the trolls had been due to Thorin's own lack of care, he should have checked where they camped. And leaving Fili and Kili to take care of the horses was probably not the best decision.

  
“Do you know what you’re going through?” A thick finger lifted Bilbo’s chin up. Thorin felt like he was handling a fragile bird, as if he might break Bilbo if he used too many words right now. Even breathing seemed forbidden somehow and he only risked air when Bilbo nodded and took deep gulps of breath himself.

  
“Okay, how can I help?” He framed the face in his hands, resting their foreheads against each other and realising that he was almost as out of breath as the hobbit, like they had both gone through the drop. Bilbo bit his lip and Thorin urged him on, thumb wiping the tears away.  
After a few seconds of waiting, Bilbo put his hand on Thorin’s left hand and guided it up to his head.

  
“The…thing you did before, uhm- the petting… it helps. Would you do that?” And _Mahal_ , Thorin felt something like lead drop in this throat because how cruel must he have been to the hobbit thus far that he had to look so unsure as he asked for something so basic from him.

  
“Of course, yes, of course,” was all he could manage as he gently carded his fingers through the curls. In a few minutes that stretched like a spider's web, Bilbo’s head dropped forward and settled right under his chin, hands holding on to Thorin like he would wisp out if Bilbo didn’t hold tightly enough.

  
Thorin felt pain around his knees after a while but he didn’t want to break the spell. Finally, Bilbo’s breathing was becoming more even. He was still gulping air intermittently but as the pads of Thorin’s fingers started massaging his scalp, the hobbit almost keened under him, his body going limp in Thorin’s arms. Thorin couldn’t stop the involuntary half smile that tugged at the corner of his mouth from the sheer relief of it all. However, he couldn’t ignore his knees any longer.

  
The moment his ministrations stilled, Bilbo looked up, eyes still unfocussed. Thorin hushed him before getting up. He bent down and smoothed the hair away from that lovely face as Bilbo looked up at him gratefully, a flush dotting his cheeks in the most pleasant of ways.

  
“Do you think you can get to the bed on your own or shall I carry you there?” Unlike the accommodations he was used to, the elven rooms were vast and sprawling. Quite a waste of space, if anyone asked Thorin about it (no one did). Bilbo looked from him to the bed, looking torn. This was when it hit Thorin - Bilbo wasn’t a switch. He was a sub, a proper one. He rephrased his words.

  
“Hold on to me, I’m going to carry you to the bed. Is that okay?” He couldn’t help adding the last bit but Bilbo’s eyes suddenly shone with gratitude and his hands came around Thorin’s neck, his chin settling on a slightly bruised shoulder and the flush becoming more pronounced. Thorin lifted him up with his arm going under the hobbit’s legs and around him.

  
The bed looked comfortable enough and instead of dropping Bilbo down, Thorin gently eased himself back against the headboard, letting him settle on his lap. Something akin to a smile lighted the halfling's eyes (and practically bruised the person it was directed at with guilt) as he looked up at Thorin.

  
“Well, I thought maybe I could resume trying to calm you down. If you wish, that is.” Thorin smiled and Bilbo looked at his own hands, almost looking shy.

  
“Thank you,” he managed and scooted closer. It seemed that the spot under Thorin’s chin had become the hobbit’s favourite place to hide his face in and he fit there perfectly, like he had been made for it. Eventually, Thorin’s finger started carding through honeyed locks again while his other hand ran down his hobbit’s sides. _His hobbit_ , Thorin felt a surge of a possessive something run through his spine and he tucked Bilbo more securely against his body.

  
They almost found a routine, Bilbo breathing quietly against his neck and Thorin almost falling asleep with the soft body in his arms. He had no idea how long he slept for but suddenly, he felt something and woke up with a jolt.

  
His hands had stopped by then but the hobbit’s fingers were moving, specifically around the various knots in his breeches.

  
“Bilbo, what are you doing?” He looked down, stilling the hobbit’s hand, sleep now entirely gone from his bones.

  
“I- I thought… well, I was repaying the favour. Isn’t this what you wanted?” Bilbo’s eyes widened as Thorin let out a few curses under his breath, Westron and Khuzdul intermingling with each other. He looked at Bilbo like the hobbit had lost his mind. In reality, he was trying to calm himself down because Bilbo’s actions proved to him the kind of people he had met in the past, people who had taken advantage of a sub’s vulnerability in his drops. There was no other explanation as to why Bilbo would be doing this when he was obviously not feeling up to anything at the moment. Thorin knew perfectly well that drops didn’t last for long but they weren’t cured in an hour either.

  
“Bilbo, maybe we should just sleep tonight…” He tried to reach for the hand that had been resting on his neck but Bilbo drew it back like he had been burnt.

  
“So, you don’t want it then?” Thorin didn’t understand why he looked so hurt.

  
“I- you’re not yourself right now,” he muttered, rubbing his hands over his eyes and this time, Bilbo chose to back away from him, sliding out of his lap, hurt evident on his face.  
“Bilbo, no listen, just-” Thorin gently grabbed the hobbit’s elbow.

  
“I can do it, you know. I’m not… useless as you have me pegged.” Mahal help him, Thorin was finally realising why this was happening.  
“Look at me, come back here. Please,” he managed.

  
Hearing those words was as weird for Bilbo as saying them was for Thorin. Doms _never_ begged, even in the most intimate of relationships. They never wanted their subs to see them vulnerable. That was how things went, even with the genuinely open-minded doms, but Thorin had never subscribed to those views and by the look on Bilbo’s face, Bilbo hadn’t met anyone who didn't. His body gave an involuntary jerk, as if he was physically incapable of not obeying a direct command and Thorin’s resolve broke. If there was ever a time for him to be vocal about his feelings, it was now. 

  
“Bilbo… I have dreamt of this often and believe me, never in my fantasies am I saying ‘no’ to you. I don’t know what kind of doms you have met in your life but doing this… now would be akin to...I would feel like I'm taking advantage of you when you are obviously distressed. I know you don’t think highly of me and Mahal knows I’ve given you ample reason for it but I want… if I ever get a chance to bed you, I want it to be out of love and respect. Nothing less.” Thorin ran out of words at the look on Bilbo’s face but he knew he had to add a few more, so he battled on.

  
“I understand that you might think I’m rejecting you but I’m not, believe me. I want this to happen more than anyone in the world and I know what it would mean when it does. At least, I know what it would mean to me… I want it to be... I want to deserve you when it happens and I want you wanting it as much as I want you right now, I want you to feel as strongly about me as I do about you. This isn’t about a quick tumble for me, just know that.” Yes, now he was done.

  
He patiently waited for the hobbit to say something. He knew he wouldn’t order him to leave the room, so Thorin had to allow for some time when he would do so himself, in case the hobbit didn’t respond. He couldn’t believe that mere moments ago, he was happier than he’d ever been since he had last seen Erebor.  
As if breaking into his thoughts, Bilbo crawled back on his lap.

  
“I thought… well, that’s how doms always are. They don’t offer any care unless they are getting something in return,” Bilbo muttered, still a bit embarrassed but at least he was back in his favourite spot. Thorin relaxed and pulled him closer.

  
“You don’t have a favourable opinion of us in general, do you? He muttered but there was a hint of teasing in his voice. At this, Bilbo looked up.

“Are you honestly telling me that there is a great misunderstanding about all of you?” There was challenge in those eyes and Thorin leaned forward to give him a chaste peck on the lips, tipping the hobbit back so that he could rest his head against the slightly warmer and infinitely more smoother neck of the hobbit.

  
“Well, no. But some of us aren’t quite that bad.” Bilbo let out a small laugh and kissed the top of Thorin’s head, hands sweeping the braids away from his face.

“How are you feeling?” Thorin muttered with his nose at Bilbo's throat, resisting every urge to taste it, and looking up to meet the halfling’s eyes. _There would be time for that later_ , he silently mused. Instead, he chose to go for another chaste kiss, almost worshipful, and the way the hobbit responded with his own almost made him regret his previous reservations.

  
“Much better. Sleepy, though.” Bilbo rubbed his eyes in the most adorable of ways and started pulling Thorin down.  
Thorin took the hint and slid down, letting Bilbo place an overly fluffy pillow under his head (those pleasure loving Elves!) and choosing to rest his head on Thorin’s chest instead (to the king's sheer joy). As they began to drift into sleep, Bilbo crept closer, almost like he was trying to climb inside Thorin’s lungs and Thorin didn’t mind it one bit when he sought his own place under his bearded chin. And then, he nuzzled Thorin and muttered “mine” in his sleep.

  
Thorin’s eyes shot open and sleep was snatched from his eyes the second time that night as he recognised the age old tradition of marking of a dom by a sub. The word “yours” poured out of his mouth before he could stop it, not that he wanted to, and his hand came to rest on Bilbo’s cheek as he kissed the top of his head.

  
Bilbo kept nuzzling against his neck until Thorin relaxed and fell asleep. Sometime during the night, Bilbo turned over and hid his face in the crook of Thorin’s arm. Thorin followed him like he was tied to Bilbo’s ribs and they slotted against each other as puzzle pieces do. His mouth went to the sweet juncture where Bilbo’s neck met his shoulder and he breathed in the faint smell of honey (Elven but Thorin was too happy to begrudge the elves for their honey loving, friend betraying ways) and there was something distinctly baked about his scent, like fresh bread on a Shire morning. If Thorin were awake, he would chide himself for being poetic.  
He kissed the shoulder once, twice, still asleep and muttered “mine”. Bilbo whispered “yours” against his arm, snoring lightly.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo and Thorin have a massive fight and they are both idiots, plus Thorin is a jealous stupid dwarf and Bilbo is as stubborn as him.

  
Thorin woke up with Bilbo’s head on his belly and in a comical moment, it almost looked like Bilbo was listening to the resonance of his stomach. Of course, the slight snore brought him back to reality and his hand reached out to muss the curls fanning behind Bilbo. When they had started on this journey, the hobbit had neat and well trimmed hair but his time in the wild had made his curls more pronounced. Thorin wrapped one curl around his finger and started shaping it, feeling content at the huff of breath Bilbo let out before beginning to wake up.

“Mmm, how long’ you been awake?” He pulled himself up against Thorin’s body and settled on his side, trying to shield his face from the sun that was pouring into the room.

“A few minutes,” Thorin mumbled, putting his nose into his mate’s hair and breathing in the sleep drenched scent of him before he reached out for the pulley hanging right next to the overly large bed and leaving the room in shade.

Bilbo opened his eyes and gave him the most radiant of sleepy smiles that made Thorin reach out and wrap himself on the hobbit’s chest, enjoying the way the laugh reverberated in his ears. Bilbo reached out to his beard and started scratching it with a fingernail, not knowing that this was Thorin’s weak spot and stopping only when he got a huge yawn in response and more snuggling.

“Let’s get up, _Thorrrin_ ,” he whined as Thorin’s hand crept under his tunic and stayed there, not doing anything, just rising and falling with Bilbo’s chest.

“You’re so lovely, I can’t believe my stars that I’m in bed with you. In your arms. And you’re in mine.” He fingers lightly stroked the hairless chest and Bilbo’s virginal body practically shivered under him. Needless to say, Thorin was instantly hard. Looking back, he should have just continued and not said anything. But damn the tactlessness of dwarves. And the short temper of hobbits.

“I don’t know how we’ll find another burglar as good as you. Perhaps, Gandalf-” the finger stopped and Bilbo stilled under him.

“Why would you need to find another burglar?” Bilbo’s voice was casually calm, too casual, easy to notice if one had an ear for such a thing. For a normal dwarf, this would have been the cue to take back the words uttered in haste but of course, this was Thorin _stupid extraordinaire_ Oakenshield. He soldiered on.

“Well, you can’t expect me to send you to a dragon now, can you? You’re my mate, my one, I can’t let you go into the mountain knowing fully well how dangerous it is for any dwarf, let alone hobbits.” Thorin face hit the bed as Bilbo slid up from under him.

He looked Thorin straight into the eye and said, “There is no question of you _letting_ me. I signed a contract. I'm not going to go back on my word just because of _this_ -” he waved a hand at the space between the two of them- “I’m going to get the Arkenstone for you and I’m going to get past the dragon, as I promised you and the company when I agreed to this trip.”

Thorin was finding it a little hard to process the latter half of the statement as his eyes stared at the spot Bilbo had just so haphazardly gestured towards.

“ _This_ -” he mimicked the motion- “what do you mean by ‘this’?” Bilbo narrowed his eyes at Thorin but the would be king of Erebor soldiered on unabashed. “ _This_ isn’t nothing to me. _This_ means that I’m responsible for your safety. I simply cannot sit around and wait for you as you try to sneak past a dragon alone and unprotected-”

Bilbo had had enough. He got up and started putting on his jacket. Thorin simply looked on, unsure about what to say and whether he wanted to say it. He’d be damned if he apologised, he hadn’t said anything wrong. Before slamming the door, Bilbo turned around and whispered with as much venom as he could manage, “You don’t own me, Thorin.” And he was gone.

  
***

  
Thorin stayed in bed for about a quarter of an hour after Bilbo left. Trying his best to turn back time and understand what had happened in the last few moments. His fingers were still warm from touching Bilbo and Bilbo’s scent was still around him. Groaning, he got up and looked out of the window, noticing the excellent view and deciding that he hated the way this beautiful day mocked him before trudging back to his own room next door.

The first thing he noticed when he entered the room that had been assigned to him by the elves was that the room was relatively smaller than Bilbo’s. The windows were boarded shut so he couldn't even scowl at the beautiful scenery of Imladris. Thoughts from last night flitted across his mind. He had planned on telling Bilbo all about how the place had been established in the second age by Elrond and probably, sitting across one of the lakes and asking Bilbo more about Shire. There was no chance of that happening now, not on this particular day, anyway.

He washed up and went out of his room, walking into a room full of noisy and overly cheery dwarves who stilled when his eyes scanned the place and found Bilbo missing. _Why should he be the one looking for the halfling all the time?_ He settled down and ignored any pointed glances in his direction, particularly the most irritating of smirks from Gandalf who obviously knew where the king had gotten to last night.

Soon, the table began to clear and Thorin resolutely stared at his food, taking a sip every now and again from his goblet. That was when he heard Ori mention something about Bilbo being in the library to clear his head (and joining him). Now, Thorin had a choice. He could wait for a while and finish his breakfast, then go to the library and pretend he had just chanced upon the place, and was _absolutely not_ looking for any hobbits, no matter how adorable they might be OR he could simply go back to his room and visit the stables and even the famous elven armoury if he was in the mood. Of course, he chose the former option.

He walked across the hallways, realising that he would have much more admiration for beautiful elven tapestries if a certain hobbit were holding his hand and walking next to him. As he reached the sprawling gates of the Rivendell library, he had to stop himself. Bilbo and Elrond were sitting next to a stack of gilded and ornate books. While Bilbo had his back to the door, Elrond’s face was clearly visible to the king which, according to Thorin, was sheer injustice from the stars above.

Bilbo spoke animatedly, his eyes glued to the pages of the book in front of him, while Elrond simply looked at Bilbo. Thorin noticed that his hand was on Bilbo’s knee and he felt something ugly curl deep in his belly. Then, Elrond started talking Elven nonsense and Bilbo threw back his head, laughing his gorgeous laugh and looking gorgeous because why wouldn't he, he was the most gorgeous of creatures Thorin had even set eyes on but the elf…  
Bilbo - or rather his back - didn’t at all look like he had just had a serious altercation and was probably pining, as Thorin had secretly hoped. He scowled and decided that it would be best if he left, lest he punch the host in the face and break his aquiline nose. Brooding and sulking in the room seemed an idea more apt than the stables or the weaponry, Thorin concurred.

That night, they met the elf in question whom everyone (Gandalf) insisted they refer to as “ _Lord Elrond_ ” and not “ _that blasted mate stealing flirtatious elf_ ” and Gandalf practically laid out there plans in front of him. The moment Elrond asked for the map, Thorin point blank refused to hand it over. And he would have done so but then, he heard an exasperated sigh next to him from the person he was trying very hard not to make eye contact with and something bristled in Thorin. He couldn’t let his sub down, even when they were not talking to each other. Resentfully, he handed over the map, ignoring Balin’s protests and risked a glance towards Bilbo, expecting him to wear a proud smile on his face. The hobbit looked impassive. What further soured his mood was the fact that Elrond informed them all about the moon letters, and how they would have to wait for two weeks before the map could be read. _Great, two more weeks eating rabbit food and suffering this stench._

As they left the scene, Gandalf asked Bilbo to stay back and Thorin was ushered out of the room with Balin.

  
***

  
It had been weeks since Bilbo had spoken to him. The anger he had felt when the hobbit had left the room had now been replaced by immense frustration and sadness. He did consider breaking the ice and apologising to the hobbit, he was now ready to do that but every time he saw Bilbo, he was with Elrond. Sometimes, they were holed up in the library, quite possibly reading all the books under the skies and at other times, Bilbo would take long walks with Elrond in the gardens of Rivendell, his tiny hand tucked in the elf’s elbow as they chatted animatedly. _This should be me_ , Thorin thought bitterly. _He should be holding my hand, spending hours talking to me and having all my attention on him._ He had made so many grand plans that night when Bilbo had curled up in his arms, barely sleeping for fear that he would wake up and it would all have been a dream.

Thorin cursed his own tongue for letting this happen. Maybe, Bilbo had chosen a powerful and learned dom like Elrond over him. His mind supplied hateful images of Elrond stroking Bilbo’s hair out of his eyes and kissing him softly, the hobbit moaning under him and chasing his mouth. _Argh_ , Thorin punched the bed loudly and started humming a tune under his breath, just to keep his fantasies in check. Fear settled in his heart as the lights began to dim and sleep evaded him as it had done these past few weeks. _What if Bilbo really had replaced him?_ Thorin didn’t know when he fell into a fitful and restless slumber that was slowly becoming his companion.

  
***

  
Finally, he was informed that this would be the night when the moon letters would be read and hidden information of the map would be revealed to him. For some reason, the elf messenger informed Thorin that Gandalf had also asked Bilbo to be brought along. After days of not talking, Thorin felt nervous. Would Bilbo refuse to accompany him? There was only one way of finding out.

Cautiously, he knocked on the door and waited for Bilbo to walk out. Perhaps, he had expected someone else because the moment the door opened, Bilbo - who had a relaxed expression on his face - suddenly became stiff. His arms hung uselessly around his side, fists closed, and Thorin simply blurted out his reason for disturbing the hobbit.

“The map, it will be read now. Gandalf has asked for you to accompany me.” It was so succinct, Thorin was surprised that the turmoil in his head didn’t spill out into his words. Bilbo gave him a nod and removed his coat, the same one he had worn when Thorin had first set eyes on him and fallen in love instantly. He wore his jacket and nodded again, not meeting Thorin’s eyes. They walked side by side, the silence clawing at Thorin’s insides and the small distance between their rooms to the rooftop seemed monstrous.

The moon letters turned out to be more important than Thorin had ever imagined and he felt the key almost humming from where it lay hidden under his tunic. He felt fresh hope and almost dared to be happy when his world came crashing down in the form of Elrond’s words.

“Bilbo Baggins, there is something I would like to suggest to you and Thorin Oakenshield-” he smiled at both of them as he addressed them and Gandalf’s pensive expression was enough to stiffen Thorin’s spine.  
“Bilbo, you have become my friend in these weeks that you have spent in Rivendell. You, my friend, are invited to stay here, if you so wish. We would offer a burglar to the company of Thorin Oakenshield so that their quest, the existence of which they deny, would be fulfilled. I worry…” Elrond seemed to consider his words before continuing, “It is a dangerous quest, Bilbo.” He finished and waited for Bilbo to reply.

Thorin felt a wave of nausea hit him and clenched his fists at his side. He knew, before he even looked at Bilbo, that the suggestion would be accepted. Perhaps, this was some twisted elven way of courting a sub. Thorin wanted to say something, a lot of things actually, and he was aware that he had closed his eyes from the sheer agony of it all. With a nod in the general direction of Gandalf, he turned around and left.

  
***

  
If Bilbo wanted to stay here, he was most welcome to. Like he had said, Thorin didn’t own him. _And wasn’t this what he wanted in the first place, to have a replacement burglar?_ He thought bitterly. His room suddenly seemed too large and Thorin realised that he needed fresh air or some place where he could scream and no one would bother him. As he was making the decision of leaving the room, there was a knock on his door.

Thorin opened the door and Bilbo was standing there. He looked at his feet as he said, “Gandalf says that there are people who might try to stop us and we should probably leave now.” He waited for Thorin to say something but Thorin was too busy comprehending the full weight of those words. Of course, he had expected this to happen when the true nature of their journey was revealed but with the things that had gone on in the past few weeks, he hadn’t been prepared to leave so quickly. Belatedly, he realised that Bilbo had said “us” and “we”, and relief flooded like breath through his lungs at the realisation that Bilbo had decided to accompany them. He desperately needed to hug his hobbit and say all the things he couldn’t say in that one hug. However, as he looked up, Bilbo muttered something like, “that’s all” and went into his room, shutting the door behind him.

  
***

  
There was no doubt in his mind about the fact that Bilbo had moved on. And now that he could think clearly - packing one’s stuff haphazardly cleared one’s mind in a beautiful way - he knew he probably deserved it. He had ample chances in the last few weeks to remedy his harsh words but he hadn’t even tried. He had simply let childish jealousy and stubborness cloud his senses and Bilbo was probably better off without him. The voice in his mind suggested that maybe, after the quest was over, Bilbo would return to Rivendell and stay with Lord Elrond. Thorin sighed loudly as he finished tying his fur coat around himself and tried his best not to cry because if he dared to do that, even in the confines of his private room, he wouldn’t be able to stop.

  
***

  
The journey out of Rivendell was almost uneventful until the stone giants started fighting - or playing - and then it became a sheer battle for survival. It was bad enough that there were menacing creatures out to kill them but now, even luck had deserted them. The dwarves clung to each other as they tried to move inch by inch towards a safe place. Thorin followed at the front with Dwalin and suddenly, he heard a shriek. When he looked back, Bilbo was hanging by the edge of the precipice, fear pouring out of him in waves and before Thorin gave any chance for utter terror to register in his heart, he was flinging himself down and pulling the hobbit up like his life depended on it, and looking back, it did. As Bilbo was hauled up, Thorin realised that he almost lost the hobbit.

He almost lost Bilbo, his one, his most treasured, and he hadn’t even told him that he loved him more than anything in the world, more than his quest to reclaim Erebor and more than the Arkenstone. Bilbo’s tiny body was immediately snuggled by the dwarves and he looked close to tears, but Thorin only had a moment to take a look at his face before he felt the ground give away beneath him. He was going to fall down and Bilbo would never find out how much he meant to him. Not just as his mate but as his friend, as someone who had left the comforts of his own home for a quest that meant nothing to him. Thank Mahal for Dwalin and his quick action that Thorin found himself almost escaping the clutches the death. There was no time for comforting words because the stone giants kept playing, unaware that thirteen creatures were wrestling for their lives.

Thorin was still shaking when they noticed a cave and decided that it would be a good spot to camp the night out. A fire was lit and bedrolls were unfurled and Thorin briefly remembered Balin spreading out his bedroll for him and gently pushing him towards it. He noticed that the hobbit had chosen a spot closer to the exit and turned his back towards it, finding the barest amount of energy needed to drag his bedroll as far away from the company as possible in the cramped space, and groaning as his body his the floor.

  
***

  
He knew he was tired and needed to rest but he couldn’t sleep. As the chatter and excitement died around him and his eyelids all but drooped, his heart thudded louder than ever and he was surprised that it didn’t wake people up. Bilbo’s face as he looked around, fingers clutching the edge, simply wouldn’t leave his mind. He had led him, led them all to their deaths by deciding to reclaim his home. They had been comfortable with their families, living their lives and Thorin had woken them up for his selfish purposes. If they died, if any of them died, it would be on him. He heard shuffling around him but simply did not have the will to turn around and look, his guilt keeping him rooted to the spot. Perhaps, they were leaving as he slept, and at that moment of hopelessness, Thorin was glad that someone from his company had the good sense to choose life over certain death, to choose comfort over a beaten and selfish king.

Small hands touched the side of his neck and Thorin couldn’t, wouldn’t, open his eyes because he knew who it was, would recognise that touch till he died. Bilbo’s hands travelled to his arms as he forced Thorin to lay on his back and then, Thorin opened his eyes, realising that his eyes were wet. The hobbit kissed his forehead, once, twice, and settled under his chin. His favourite spot, Thorin could only wrap his arms around the small figure to stop himself from crying. Bilbo climbed on top of him, his legs reaching somewhere around Thorin’s ankles and nose at his jaw, nuzzling.

Bilbo whispered something at him, kissing his throat and Thorin allowed the relief to wash through him. If this was a dream, he would rather die than wake up.

“Shh, it’s okay. Thorin…” Bilbo whispered against his shoulder, peppering soft kisses.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry for the things I said, Bilbo. If you want to leave…I- _you almost died_.”

“But I didn’t. I’m here, shh. It’s alright.”

“It’s not alright, I almost lost you. I am a fool of a king and I would have you all killed for my greed and selfishness.”

“No, you woudn't. You are none of those things,” Bilbo crept up and took his face in his hands, resting their foreheads together. “You are brave and strong, and it isn’t greed to want one’s home back.” He kissed Thorin and let their lips rest against each other as they shared breaths. “You are wonderful and stubborn but never selfish. And you are a great king.” Thorin huffed at that, not believing a word of it and kissing his mate instead.

“You will see,” Bilbo whispered and Thorin was touched at the faith the hobbit had in him. He pulled him closer as Bilbo whispered “yours” against his throat and Thorin replied with a broken “mine”. He would make sure that the quest never became more important that the lives of the members of the company. He would earn the hobbit's faith and he vowed that the madness of Erebor would never overshadow what was most important to him - Bilbo and his friends - they were his home now, his family and if such a time came when he had to choose between them and his lost home, he would always choose them. Perhaps, he had muttered those words out loud because Bilbo nuzzled him again, whispering sweet nothings at him and for once, allowing him to claim sleep as a friend and not a foe.

And that was when the ground gave away.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin and Bilbo come closer to each other and Bilbo teaches Thorin how to kiss ehheeh. Oh, and there is some smut that you might enjoy

_Thorin felt the warg’s teeth sink into his shoulder as he was yanked off the ground, the smell of smoke still heavy in his nostrils. He had a feeling of pain but it seemed like a distant memory, something he didn’t have the time to deal with just yet. There was something he had to do, something else. Yes, sleeping, he had to sleep, it seemed extremely important for some reason. The sword approaching his throat could wait because Thorin was tired beyond reason. If he just napped for a few moments, he would be up in no time._

_And that’s when Bilbo leapt out, jumping over him and taking one sure stroke at the warg’s neck with his sword.  Thorin forgot all about sleep, the hobbit had to be protected at all costs, his hobbit, Bilbo_ …  _Bilbo was scared as his back hit Thorin. He would save the hobbit, yes, he would get up any second now and protect Bilbo. And then his eyes closed of their own volition and he heard a screech. Bilbo! And then_ … _weightlessness. Thorin screamed but he was sure it was all in his head._

“He’s feverish,” Bilbo muttered as Thorin thrashed in his sleep and arched against the bed. Everything that had happened in the past few hours seemed like a dream and Bilbo was appalled at how desperately the dwarves had attacked the food Beorn had offered. Words were uttered to him… at him… but Bilbo wouldn’t leave Thorin’s side. His hand itched to touch the feverish forehead again but it wouldn’t do to disturb Thorin or make Oin uncomfortable as he ensconced the deep wound on Thorin’s chest in herbs and covered everything up.

“Bilbo, perhaps I could see that gash on your arm?” Oin offered but Bilbo waved him away, immediately wincing as blood oozed out. Tutting and glaring, Oin started working on Bilbo’s arm, not listening to his protests.

“Master Baggins, you cannot make him better by ignoring medication.” This was all he said as he left Bilbo alone in the room.

In the next few hours, dwarves arrived in small groups, asking after the health of their king and leader, and all except Fili and Kili asked Bilbo to have something to eat.  _Is he any better? Did Gandalf tend to him? What does the wizard think? Will his condition improve?_ Bilbo felt like he was in one of those plays in the Shire, things he had taken part in when he was a young child. They would spend weeks memorising lines and when the day arrived, the words and gestures would just tumble out of their mouths, having almost become second nature by then.

Kili squeezed Bilbo’s good shoulder, letting him lean on his chest and Fili watched, calm exterior betraying the turmoil raging in his head. As the last of the party trickled out of the room, saving two, Bilbo had already established a routine of his own. He would tilt his head and rub his face over his hands when they enquired after Thorin, nod when they asked after him, and shake his head when they told him to eat something.

Eventually, Bilbo could not longer fight the urges of his body. He needed to drink some water, his throat felt scratchy and dry. He could feel something bristling as he tried to gulp. Looking around, he realised that he was alone in the room. Everyone had left and, as Bilbo got up, he also noticed that the gash on his arm had been covered by Oin.  _When did Oin do that?_ Bilbo brushed a stray strand of hair off Thorin’s face and went out of the room, quietly shutting the door behind him.

***

“Would you like some ale, Bilbo?” It was Balin and Bilbo nodded at him, trying his best to eat under Gandalf’s strict directions. He had spent the last few minutes chiding Bilbo and wouldn’t budge until the hobbit finished his stew and half a loaf of bread. As the last of the bread disappeared into Bilbo’s mouth and grudgingly, he had to admit that he felt better now that there was some food in his belly, Balin arrived and Gandalf left, smiling at Bilbo and patting his arm.

“Balin, how are you feeling?” Bilbo asked, gulping mouthfuls of the offered ale.

“I’m fine, lad. It’s you we are all worried about. It’s good to know that Gandalf has some hold over you,” Balin peered at Bilbo and put his hand on Bilbo’s knee. Bilbo gave half a smile and he was sure it came out as a grimace. He felt guilty for having a meal - and a satisfying one at that - and enjoying it when Thorin was lying on the brink of death next door.

“He’ll be fine, Bilbo,” Balin said, almost reading his mind. “You did a brave thing back there, we’re all grateful. I don’t know what would have happened if-” Balin stopped, as if suddenly overcome with emotions. Bilbo simply looked away and if Balin wiped his eyes on his sleeve, he was too interested in the cutlery to notice.

“There is one thing I would like to say, though, if you wouldn’t mind…” At this, Bilbo looked up, curious. Balin never chewed on his words and if he was feeling this uncomfortable over this chat, it could only be about one thing.

“You want to talk about Thorin and me…about our relationship.” It wasn’t a question and Balin didn’t reply. He simply took a sip from his own flagon before continuing.

“We have noticed everything that has gone on between you two. At Rivendell, we thought that Thorin had, perhaps, broken your heart. I felt sorry for you but in a way, I thought it was for the best.” Balin shrugged at Bilbo’s puzzled and slightly offended expression.

“Bilbo, don’t ever forget who he is. He is going to be the king and while he might cherish your friendship and enjoy your company on this quest, things might not turn out like you hope when we reclaim Erebor. 

“He… is a king, just remember that.” It hadn’t even occurred to Bilbo, their future after Erebor was reclaimed. So much had happened in the last few days that he never had any time to think. But Balin was right, wasn’t he? Bilbo was a hobbit, a simple one at that, and Thorin was a king. There couldn’t be a future between the two of them…

“Bilbo, I just don’t want you to get hurt, that is all. You understand the situation, don’t you?” Bilbo nodded, vowing not to cry because it would be improper. Instead, he gave Balin a small smile and made to get up to resume his watch by Thorin’s bedside.

***

Bilbo didn’t know what time of the night it was when he woke up. The back of his neck hurt him and he could still hear some dwarves shuffling outside by the fire. He reached over and touched Thorin’s forehead, burnt more by the intensity of his own feelings than the fever itself. He had fallen asleep, thinking about everything Balin had said and there wasn’t a lot he could disagree with. Thorin would probably get married to another dwarf - someone strong like Dwalin. Looking back, he could never have imagined that someone like Thorin would get tied up with him, he couldn’t see himself as the King’s consort, standing by his side. He could, however, see the looks his subjects would give Thorin if Bilbo were standing next to him. Age old insecurities peeked their horrendous faces out from under Bilbo’s shields and taunted him.

Thorin tossed in his sleep and a long lock of unbraided hair fell on his face. Bilbo noticed the other side, the slightly unkempt braid hidden from view and compared it to this stray lock. It must have come apart during the battle. He removed himself from the overly large chair and gently tugged the braid out from under Thorin’s arm, trying to notice the pattern of the weave. It was a simple enough three strand braid and Bilbo suddenly realised that all this time, he had never seen Thorin as much as brush his hair. The other dwarves would begin their day with their collective hair braiding but Thorin…

He took the stray lock in his fingers, if nothing then to simply calm himself down, and divided it in three equal parts, noticing how the greys had begin to inch out close to Thorin’s scalp, and smiling to himself. Then he repeated his mother’s words as he remembered how she used to braid her own hair -  _left over, right over, pull, tighten_. His mother’s memory and her beautiful voice was enough to calm Bilbo as his fingers started moving. Thorin’s hair were soft and they weirdly smelled of the oil Thorin used to clean his sword. As he reached over to tighten the braid for the second time, the door opened and Bilbo realised that it was Balin.

“Oh, hello, Balin. He’s still-”

“Master Baggins, what in the name of Mahal are you doing?” Bilbo simply shot him an incredulous look and looked down at his own hands that were holding the unfinished braid.

“Oh! I’m just… it’s nothing…” Bilbo replied. In some remote part of his mind, he realised that, perhaps, braiding someone’s hair was not as casual as he’d thought. The dwarves were pretty touchy about their culture, there had to some rules regarding braids and hair braiding. And yet, his fingers wouldn’t let the unfinished braid fall down.

“It’s not nothing, Bilbo. You can’t braid someone’s hair without… let alone a king’s-” Balin spluttered indignantly and as Bilbo’s fingers opened, waiting for the braid slip from between them, a familiar hand touched his knuckles, curling around his hand.

“Balin, it’s alright.” Even in his state, Thorin’s voice still boomed across the walls and Bilbo squeaked in surprise.

“Thorin! You’re awake.” Balin exclaimed. “I’ll inform everyone else.”

“No, let them sleep. There will be time for a reunion tomorrow morning,” Thorin muttered back. His voice was still throaty and raspy, but his hand never left Bilbo’s. Balin’s eyes travelled from Thorin’s face to their joined hands. Bilbo almost felt like he wanted to say something but decided not to and left.

It was several seconds after the door closed that Bilbo felt the reality around him. It seemed like like he had woken up from a trance.

“Thorin…” his voice was level and his eyes were prickling uncomfortably.

“Shh… it’s okay. Come here,” Thorin whispered, urging Bilbo to sit on the edge of the bed. And Bilbo did.

“Don’t look so worried, I’m fine now.” Bilbo scowled at this, realising that he was still clutching an unbraided lock in his hand and all the commotion had made it come loose.

“Yes, you are going to have to start over,” Thorin said, closing his eyes and completely missing the appalled look Bilbo threw in his direction. “Bilbo, continue braiding my hair,” he whispered, and Bilbo’s hands started working again. He started over, unfurling the braid and smoothing out the three equal strands. However, his mother’s words didn’t sing in his hair this time but as he finished segments, the relief of having Thorin fine and alive started to sink in. Bilbo almost laughed and his eyes widened as Thorin considered him, amusement twinkling on his face. He finished off the braid and used the accompanying hair to secure it.

“Well, I never knew you could use hair to tie off a braid,” Thorin mused as Bilbo tucked it behind Thorin’s ear and waited for a second before cupping that badly bruised face in his hands and resting his forehead against Thorin’s. “I thought… you almost died, Thorin.”

“But I didn’t,” Thorin whispered against his lips, unable to move because of his injuries but well enough to offer Bilbo a chaste peck. The words took Bilbo back to the cave, before the ground had consumed them. He could feel the coldness of the ring in his pocket but as Thorin’s mouth travelled to his eyelids, kissing delicately, every thought fled from his head.

Bilbo rubbed his nose against Thorin’s. “Mine,” he whispered. “Yours,” Thorin replied, like it was the most natural thing to say in the world.

“Aren’t you going to be angry at me? For trying to tackle the pale orc on my own?” For some reason, Bilbo felt that finally waking up was as much a surprise to Thorin as it was to Bilbo. He kissed the hawkish nose again, not saying anything. Bilbo didn’t have it in him to scold Thorin for his actions when his own had been so brash. And yet, he would do it again. Do it again for this impossible and stubborn dwarf in his arms. 

Thorin slowly scooted over to the other side, allowing Bilbo to settle next to him. He couldn’t turn but just having Bilbo close to him was enough to make him realise that this wasn’t a dream, feeling his head on his shoulder and an almost weightless arm settling on his bare stomach was enough to impress upon him that the worst was over. Bilbo let his fingers run through the dark thatch of hair running down Thorin’s chest to his belly and disappearing in a trail down his pants and flushed even before  _certain_ thoughts entered his head.

“Why are you so quiet, amrâlimê?” Thorin took Bilbo's small hand drawing patterns on his stomach and raised it to his lips, waiting for the hobbit to respond. 

“No reason, I’m just relieved that you are well.” Bilbo had never been good at lying.  _An open book_ , his father had once called him. Thorin instantly picked up on it as well. 

“Look at me,” he whispered, and Bilbo did. “You love reading, don’t you? You love your books, you once told us. Tell me, did you read love stories when you were in Shire?” Bilbo was thrown by the change of subject but grateful all the same. 

“Oh yes, I have. In fact, one of the book-shelves at Bag End is reserved only for love stories,” Bilbo replied, suddenly missing Bag End more than anything. 

“Yes? Perhaps, one day when we visit the Shire again, you could read to me. However, tell me something - how many pages of angst could the lovers have avoided if they just communicated openly?” And there it was, the telltale Thorin Oakenshield smirk that Bilbo hated and loved in equal measure. 

“I… don’t know what you mean,” Bilbo tried to hide his face in a surprisingly unscarred patch of skin along Thorin’s side. 

“If you told me, I would be able to clear away all your worries,” Thorin replied in an almost sing song voice that he wouldn’t dare use in front of the company, finding his hobbit’s actions all too adorable to call him out on how transparent he was. 

Finally, after some cajoling and lots of Khuzdul endearments, Bilbo resurfaced from his hiding spot and came out clean. “When you become a king… would you… well, what I want to ask is- rather, I want to say - that,” Bilbo took a great big gulp of breath “you wouldn’t need me when you are a king, would you?” Thorin’s face changed, the amusement dropping out and getting replaced by something Bilbo couldn’t quite comprehend but which made him get up and lean on his elbows nonetheless, his need to stay close to Thorin overcoming all else. 

He gave Thorin some time to respond, dreading what the king would say. Perhaps, he would be angry at Balin. Bilbo vowed to not tell Thorin that it was Balin who had broken the information to him. 

“Oh, it was Balin, wasn’t it?”  _Could these dwarves also read minds?_  Bilbo’s eyes widened and Thorin hushed him, lamenting the fact that he couldn’t even move enough to wrap his mate in his arms and nuzzle him senseless. 

“I’m not angry, Bilbo, don’t look so scared. Answering your question, yes, of course, I would want you to stay as my consort in Erebor, always by my side, if you will. However, if you wish to return to Shire, I wouldn’t stop you. I would… it would make me immensely sad, though, if you chose to leave me.” Thorin finished, waiting for Bilbo to process the information and the amused expression returning back to his face. He would definitely be having words with Balin for distressing his mate so but Bilbo didn’t have to know that.

“I… consort, really?” Bilbo looked lovely in all his hidden happiness and Thorin felt his heart leap out of his chest. He would have consummated this relationship right there and then if there weren’t things holding him back. 

“Of course, what did you think? I haven’t pined after you for so long for nothing.” 

“But, I am a simple hobbit. And you are a king.”

“You are hardly  _simple_ , Bilbo. You are brave, strong, independent and unbelievably gorgeous,” he laughed at the way the hobbit blushed. “Honestly, I find it hard to believe why someone like you would have anything to do with me,” he stroked the hobbit’s face, motioning him to come closer so that he could kiss his forehead. 

“Your subjects might not think the same,” Bilbo muttered, but at least he was settling down next to Thorin.

“Anyone with a problem would be thrown out of Erebor. Like you said, I am the king!” He laughed loudly when Bilbo rolled his eyes. Finally, after days of running, worrying and practically dying, he was right where he belonged, with his mate curled up next to him. Bilbo’s soft snores were the perfect end to the conversation. 

***

Bilbo slept through all the commotion in Thorin’s room the next morning. It might have had something to do with how everyone was angrily shushed when they greeted their king in a tone higher than acceptable but after two or three annoyed shushes, there was happy whispering from all the dwarves. The way Thorin’s hand petted Bilbo’s hair protectively left no doubt about his intentions in the minds of most dwarves. And yet, Thorin still managed to have a quiet word with Balin through it all. 

Last came Gandalf, eyes twinkling in mirth as, unlike the others, he glanced at Bilbo’s sleeping form next to Thorin and made a remark about it. 

“Sleep well, Thorin?” Thorin rolled his eyes at that and Bilbo snuggled closer to him in his sleep, prompting Thorin to securely tuck the covers around him. He resolutely looked away from Gandalf’s amused face and instead, chose to answer his question. 

“Yes, thank you. The wound, though. Is there anything you can do about it?” In truth, Thorin had woken up multiple times during the night, his back hurting from staying in one position for too long. He stretched as discreetly as possible in order to not wake his hobbit up but Bilbo was far too tired to be roused by uncomfortable dwarves. 

Gandalf placed his staff against the door as he walked closer and sat at Thorin’s bedside. He inspected the wound without even touching Oin’s handiwork and simply letting his fingers feel the air around it. Eventually, he smiled and nodded, and motioning Thorin to lean back against the pillows. Moments - or perhaps, it was hours - later, Thorin realised that he had actually fallen asleep as the wizard worked his magic. The pain was still there but it was bearable. At least, Thorin could sleep on his side, resting against his good shoulder with relative ease. He thanked Gandalf gratefully, flexing his shoulder and trying to gauge how intense the pain was. 

“Gandalf, before you leave, I wanted to ask you about our plans after this. How long would be staying here? I feel well enough to leave today, if possible-” Gandalf interrupted him with a shake of his head. 

“Thorin, your company is tired. Let them restock their rations and their energy, this place is good for the soul. And, perhaps, you would be thankful for a few days of restful rest after all,” and with a wink in Bilbo’s direction, the wizard was out. 

***

Bilbo woke up with a bearded face against his neck and large hands wrapped up around him like he was a child’s favourite doll. Thorin also had his leg thrown about his waist, pinning him in his embrace. On one hand, he didn’t want to wake up his injured mate but on the other, he desperately needed to pee. And so, he started wriggling around to loosen the hold and sneak out. The more he wriggled, tighter the embrace grew until Bilbo had to let out a frustrated whine. 

“I’m too comfortable to allow you to leave,” came a gruff voice against his neck. 

“Yes, but my body has some needs that must be met at this exact second, if not sooner.” He blushed scarlet at his own words and Thorin grinned against his skin, earning himself a smack on the arm. 

“You know what I mean, I need to wash up and get cleaned.” Bilbo buried his fingers in the scalp and starting carding his hands through the silken locks at a gentle pace until Thorin practically purred in his arms.

“That is not the way to make me let you go,” he muttered, finally letting the hobbit slip away from him. 

As Bilbo got dressed, Thorin followed him with his eyes, still wanting to sleep for a bit more but utterly drenched in comfort at the sight of his hobbit buttoning his waistcoat with the most adorably sleepy expression on his face. 

“What?” Bilbo said, catching his look. 

“Nothing.” 

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

Thorin waited for a few seconds, knowing how Bilbo hated being patient. Finally, he said the words he had wanted to say right after they had left Rivendell. 

“I love you.” It was a bare, unembellished confession that he knew Bilbo felt too. It just made him feel good to finally say it. 

Bilbo smiled at him and came closer. With Thorin sitting down and Bilbo standing up, they were perfectly at level with each other and when Bilbo leaned forward, hands tangling in Thorin’s hair, Thorin knew there was nothing better to do that just wrap the hobbit in his arms and let him leave tiny little kisses on his face. When Bilbo reached his lips, his tongue slipped out and Thorin’s hands tightened on his waist. Leaning back, the hobbit gave him a quizzical expression. 

“What?” Thorin muttered, utterly confused. 

“You’re supposed to open your mouth when we kiss, Thorin.” It was Bilbo’s turn to be amused as Thorin looked completely lost at the suggestion. Instead of using words, he decided to offer a demonstration, letting his tongue do the talking.

He cupped Thorin’s face in his hands and tilted his head. Thorin did the same and their noses ended up bumping against each other, making the kiss as beautifully awkward as possible, until Bilbo decided to go the other way. As his tongue teased Thorin’s top lip, Bilbo was rewarded with a growl and when he teased the vermillion border, Thorin opened his mouth in surprise, plesantly unsure under his deft tongue but enjoying it all the same. Finally, Bilbo rewarded Thorin’s patience by running his tongue between the commissures, not forgetting to suck on Thorin’s lower lip and having him keening under him, before plunging straight in. He kissed until his mouth hurt and soon, Thorin was responding. Nervously, his tongue teased Bilbo’s before he slowly mirrored his movements from before. When he reached the inside of Bilbo’s mouth, he moaned out loud and their teeth collided against each other, leading to a hysterical bout of laughter from Bilbo and adorable confusion from Thorin that was kissed off his face. 

The tutorial went ahead for a few more moments till Thorin was breathless and panting in Bilbo’s arms. 

“I never… how did I never know about that? Dwarves don’t kiss like that, oh Mahal.” Bilbo just laughed and when Thorin started going for another round, he kissed the dwarf on his nose and reminded him that his body still had needs. 

This time, however, he was winking and that completely knocked the breath out of Thorin. 

***

Over the next few days or so, Thorin’s strength returned to him and yet, something gnawed at him. He let it drift to the back of his mind and focussed on Bilbo as much as he could. And yet, that was the very thing that brought the thought right back. Eventually, Thorin found a way to block it out and kissing Bilbo every time he saw him became a better option instead.

They would spend the entire day living the Hobbit’s way of life - eating multiple meals a day, sharing stories, spending some time in the garden, smoking, kissing, more kissing, kissing till Thorin’s knees went weak and Bilbo was breathless with happiness, and then some.

One of the things of finally getting to spend time with each other was the fact that Thorin and Bilbo barely knew anything about each other, let alone discuss the hobbit and dwarven traditions. Thorin finally revealed the hair braiding secret to Bilbo, telling him how it was only done by one’s family or one’s consort, and Bilbo was only too happy to do it every single morning when the dwarf woke up. They almost fell into a role every day - Thorin would wake up with his nose at the back of Bilbo’s neck, pleasantly tickled by sun warm skin and soft curls, and he would begin the day with a small kiss at the hobbit’s pulse point, exchanging their vow of ‘Mine’ and ‘Yours’. And Bilbo would turn around, framing Thorin’s face in his small hands, before sitting up and re-braiding the two braids that hung by Thorin’s face. Then, he would kiss Thorin on the nose - something that made Thorin blush more than the soul-mellowing kisses with tongue that they’d been sharing - before the hobbit moved on to take care of his own morning routine.

And so it went, until one night when Thorin was feeling particularly hot ( _from the weather, ahem_ ) and simply took his night-shirt off, sleeping on his front. The position seemed comfortable and was, in fact, how Thorin had usually slept before a certain hobbit had begun sharing his bed. Now, it meant not having Bilbo in close proximity to him. Almost asleep and dreaming, he whispered at Bilbo.

“Sleep on my back, amrâlimê,” he wasn’t sure Bilbo heard him but the hobbit shuffled about for a second, almost sleepwalking, as he put his cheek between Thorin’s shoulder blades and let his hands slide under Thorin, legs reaching Thorin’s calves precisely. When he was done, Bilbo started snoring and Thorin had to stop himself from sniggering, lest the movement wake the hobbit up.

The next morning, Thorin was woken up not by the sun or the birds, but by an insistent - there was no other word for it -  _rutting_ against his lower back. Bilbo gasped against his neck and Thorin froze mid-yawn. A part of him wanted the hobbit to finish and another wanted to see him. Sadly, a third part won - the one that wanted Bilbo to be all blushing and stuttering as he came all over Thorin’s back with Thorin’s name over his lips.

“Bilbo…” Thorin kept his voice low as his arm twisted back, elbow hitting the headboard, and hands petting the hobbit’s hair gently so as to not startle him out of his very pleasing ministrations. Bilbo hummed against his neck, all sleep sour breath hot, intoxicating Thorin who had to close his eyes as the hobbit gave a particularly strong thrust and keened over him.

“Bilbo, wake up,” Thorin sounded like he had been carved from splintered wood. Bilbo woke up with a gasp and stilled over Thorin, obviously feeling his hard length mid thrust against his mate’s lower back.

“Oh no,  _no no,_ ” Thorin could practically see the flush settling on his own skin from the hobbit’s face as he hid it in his hair, continuing his embarrassed mutterings.

“It’s fine-  _don’t you dare_  get off me,” Thorin muttered as Bilbo almost made to move, still too hard to talk clearly.

“You… you want…” Bilbo’s shaky huff of breath confirmed that the idea of continuing was as exciting to him as Thorin.

“Only if you want to… continue, that is. Is that okay?” If Bilbo had refused at that moment, Thorin would have stopped using the phrase “Thank Mahal”, yes he would’ve. He waited for what seemed like centuries before Bilbo’s hands held on to his sides and he started rocking again, timidly and without any rhythm.

“You have no idea how wrecked I am, do you?” Thorin’s voice was muffled in the pillow and Bilbo smiled, getting confidence from what he was doing to his mate. His thrusts became a bit more confident and soon, he was licking the sweat off the dwarf’s neck, chuckling amidst his own gasps as Thorin let out a string of profanities in Khuzdul, the strange and apt use of one’s tongue still new to him despite everything.

Hobbits took some time to come, of course Thorin didn’t know that.

“What were you dreaming of?” Thorin still wouldn’t look up from the pillow and Bilbo had to tangle his fingers in that glorious mane to give a little tug, and shake the dwarf out of his revelry. Thorin’s gasp was well worth the risk because as Bilbo’s hands had reached for the lock of hair he had braided himself last morning, he knew that some doms might be offended at his impertinence. Thorin, however, was too lost in the feeling, turning his face so that Bilbo could offer him half a kiss and a full gasp along the corner of his mouth.

“It’s going to take me some time, Thorin. It might be easier if…” even his Took-ish side won’t let him finish the sentence. He was a proper hobbit and a proper sub, after all.

“Anything,” came Thorin’s reply and Bilbo had to lean down to take his earlobe between his teeth, simply to stop himself from groaning at how utterly broken Thorin sounded at the mere mention of a request from Bilbo.

Bilbo let go of the earlobe and muttered, “You could…”.

“Just say it,” Thorin’s voice was gentle and even though he was still shaking from the sheer resolve, Bilbo found some purchase in his own mouth before uttering,“You could take me.”

“Oh…” Thorin had not expected that but after it was uttered, he couldn’t understand why he had expected anything else.

However, his past experiences had taught him a lot of things about communication and he at least understood that one wrong word here would have the hobbit shamefacedly scampering away from him. It was not easy for subs to make a request, especially a direct one and especially when the relationship was still new. He had to say something soon, though, because Bilbo’s thrusts were becoming erratic again.

“Bilbo, I can’t. But before you say anything, know that there is nothing else I want to do than sink deep in you and feel you like no one’s ever felt you before,” at least, Bilbo let out a low pitched whine at Thorin’s words. Emboldened by the sound, Thorin continued, “But dwarven traditions forbid that a mate be taken before the first proper  _Rise_  of the dom.” His hands found the hobbit’s soft arse and his let his fingers squeeze it gently, his mind still in disarray from all the blood flowing away from it.

Bilbo stayed silent for a few moments and Thorin almost flipped them over in fear, wanting to utter apologies in Bilbo‘s mouth but then the hobbit’s lips returned close to his ear,“ I don’t know what that is but if that’s a tradition, that is how we will do it.” Thorin thought he would flatten out at the wave of breath that left his lungs. But Bilbo was not finished, in any way.

“There are, however, other ways of pushing me further. You… I love your voice,” Bilbo finished tentatively, scared of making another request and tugging at Thorin’s heart in the most unfair ways possible.

“Do you?” Thorin pitched his voice to a low growl and Bilbo whimpered over him, rutting faster.

“You never told me about what you were dreaming but perhaps, I could tell you one of mine.” He had no idea he would be good at this but if the sounds coming out of hobbit’s mouth were anything to go by, he wasn’t half bad.

“You know, I once dreamt - and mind you, this was back when I didn’t even have you and it wrecked me even when you looked at me - I dreamt that I had reclaimed Erebor and you were with me. Completely naked, sitting astride my thighs and me on the throne.

“Should I continue?” He whispered, teasing Bilbo out of his mind, and feeling a fierce pride as the hobbit’s pace quickened instantly and he hummed against Thorin’s back.

“Well, you were slowly taking my length into you and you were being  _so_ good. I could see it disappear into your  _tight little hole_  inch by inch-” Bilbo was practically sobbing now. His whimpers and Thorin’s own words were making him rut against the bed himself, and a part of him that was appalled at his words was silenced instantly. Thorin had never even thought about the words he was using.

“Your thighs were quivering as you lowered yourself down on me, and did I mention that all my subjects were right outside the door. Oh Bilbo, they could probably hear you, hear every  _filthy_ moan that came out of your mouth as you took me in completely.” Bilbo was a complete mess and a part of Thorin wanted to just fuck with all traditions and take the hobbit right there and then. But that would involve moving and breaking the almost hypnotic thrust against his back, so he continued.

“Then, you started rolling your hips and I gasped out loud because I had no idea you could look so decadent as you were moaning my name. You  _knew_  there were people outside and yet, you were screaming louder for me.” Bilbo whispered a string of open mouthed “yes, yes, yes” against Thorin’s skin.

“I lost all control at that and grabbed on to your hips, hoping that I’d leave marks, and started slamming into you. You held on to my shoulders and met me thrust for thrust until you were coming all over my chest, marking me with your seed.” Thorin heard a strangled gasp above him and there was wetness against his lower back as Bilbo whispered his name instead of screaming it, almost reverent with every syllable.

However, he couldn’t stop. Sometime during the recitation of the dream - which, Thorin reminded himself, had been for the benefit of his mate - Thorin had started rutting harder. “I thrust inside your limp body once, twice and more.”

Bilbo started sucking on his neck, helping his mate reach his peak faster and soon, Thorin had soiled the entire sheets and was sure everyone outside their room had heard him growl out Bilbo’s name and a few Khuzdul words he would never translate for Bilbo.

They lay there in all the sweat and wetness for several seconds before Bilbo peeled himself off Thorin’s back and went to get a washcloth. Thorin was too scandalised at the words that had come out of his mouth during their haphazard coupling to let any light touch his face. 

His pillow was his home now, he decided, until a cool wash cloth was cleaning his lower back. Hands prodded him to turn around and Thorin was rewarded with a glowing hobbit, vestiges of shyness still clinging to his face, as he resolutely cleaned the dwarf by pulling down his underpants. Bilbo‘s expression suddenly became hungry but nothing stilled his hands as he unabashedly feasted his eyes on Thorin’s softened length. And if Bilbo winked when Thorin hissed as the washcloth touched the head of his cock, they never mentioned it.

Bilbo left to wash the cloth and Thorin quickly discarded his pants for a fresh pair, snuggling inside the covers and going over to the other side of the bed till his back hit the wall, all the while making sure there was some dry room in front of him so that the hobbit could join him when he returned.

When Bilbo arrived, he smiled at the dwarf, and allowed his eyes to fall on the damp spot at the side of the bed where Thorin had come. He carefully climbed back under the covers, avoiding looking at that spot as much as he could, and tucked himself in the warm spot in front of Thorin so that his mate could cuddle against him in peace.

“Perhaps, we should go back to sleep…” Thorin kissed the back of the hobbit’s neck, glad at the way the hobbit wrapped his own arms around Thorin’s.

“Mmm,” was all Bilbo said and Thorin was glad he didn’t ask about the  _Rise_. He would have to tell the hobbit all about it, eventually, but no one liked to admit that they went completely powerless once a month because of the full moon, least of all doms. Thorin scented himself on his hobbit and pushed that thought out of his head, for now. After all, he still had two more days.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Rise arrives and things happen. Thorin gets a chance to shower Bilbo with affection and Bilbo gets to show his wanton side to his dom. Oh, and Dwalin confesses his feelings to Ori, sorta. Kili is a little shit but Fili loves him anyway.

Despite the particularly cold night, Thorin was burning up and Bilbo was a log, crackling merrily in his arms. The past two days had passed by in a blur with Thorin leaving every morning to work on something in the woods and Bilbo finally letting Bofur, Fili, Kili and Ori ask him questions about this new thing between Thorin and him. Sure, they all had their doubts in Rivendell but things had gone so haywire after that, that this was the first time Bilbo was getting to tell them how everything had unfolded between him and Thorin.

Ori asked Bilbo about the culture of hobbits - love, marriage and so on. He also kept making notes, and Bilbo and Ori fell into a conversation about the Shire long after Fili and Kili had gotten bored with their innuendo laced jokes and Bofur had gone to help Bombur sort their rations for the rest of the journey. They didn’t even realise when the warm evening tumbled into a biting night and the fire had long died. It was only when Bilbo saw Thorin coming out of the woods, eyebrows knitted and almost a shadow against the mist draped thatch of trees, that he bade Ori farewell.

The clouds from Thorin’s eyes cleared the moment they rested on Bilbo who was wriggling his toes in front of the moribund fire.

“Where were you all day?” Bilbo asked, stifling a yawn.

“You’ll see,” was all Thorin said before dropping a kiss on his head and leading him towards their room.

***

That morning, Bilbo woke up alone for the first time since they had been in Beorn’s house. He reached out towards the empty space next to him and found the bed cold. Thorin must have woken up pretty early, he wondered, but when he dared to open one eye and peek out of the window, the sun was floating closer to the horizon, the overcast evening sky making Bilbo’s eyes water. Bilbo tucked himself back under the covers, realising that he had overslept but feeling too lazy to get up. Something nagged at the back of his mind, like he had to do something but was forgetting what it was. It was a feeling Bilbo always had when he was leaving for a metaphorically long journey to the Sackville Baggins, not that he had had a chance to journey anywhere else before the company arrived at his doorstep.

It was with a feeling of sickening apprehension that Bilbo got out of bed this morning.

As he dressed, he missed certain blue eyes scanning him, sprawled majestically over the bed, and decided that he needed to know what Thorin had been doing in the forest these past couple of days. He opened the door noiselessly and walked out. It wasn’t that Bilbo was trying to be stealthy - it was still morning for him after all - but hushed voices and the mention of Thorin’s name from one of the rooms made him automatically featherfooted.

_“…but we have to get Thorin out of the way.”_

_“Yes, yes, you’re right, Nori. But it wouldn’t be easy… you know how dangerous it can get…”_

The conversation seemed to peter out after that and Bilbo stood transfixed outside the door, unable to make head or tail of the dialogue he had accidentally overheard. Nori and Dori were definitely talking about Thorin but he simply didn’t understand the context. He quietly crept away towards the table and sat down, tearing a piece of loaf almost habitually and repeating the words in his head.

 _We have to get Thorin out of the way_ , Nori had said. Bilbo wasn’t stupid, he knew that this couldn’t mean anything good. They wouldn’t get Thorin “out of the way” to surprise him with a crown made of dragon scales, surely. He decided that he needed to see Thorin as soon as possible. Yes, he would go to the woods now, there was no point pretending to eat when there were so many thoughts swirling in his mind.

Right that moment, Beorn walked in, shaking his head like an overlarge dog and catching sight of Bilbo.

“Bunny! You’re awake,” Beorn’s voice boomed across the very walls and every head turned in his direction. Bilbo had been so preoccupied with his own thoughts that he hadn’t even noticed that half the company was in the kitchen.

And they were… well, they were washing dishes. Except a few who were sitting next to the empty fireplace. Ori was one of these people; he was writing something in his journal, the scratching of quill completely drowned by the _clunk clank_ of pots and pans. On closer inspection, he realised that the doms were washing up and the subs were lazing about. Fili and Kili were missing apart from Thorin. So was Balin.

It simply didn’t make any sense. Not that the doms in the company didn’t help with anything but it was… odd… for them to be the only ones working. On top of that, they had paid little notice to the resonant voice of Beorn, let alone Bilbo’s tiny steps. As Bilbo darted more glances towards them - still feeling a nagging something in his mind that stopped him from staring without abandon - he could almost see a palpable heaviness in the air, in the way the doms breathed thickly after every plate was wiped, like it was taking them physical effort to finish the most mundane of tasks. Another odd thing were the subs and their languid, almost decadent, body movements. The sluggishness that Bilbo himself was feeling in his bones seemed to be mirrored by every sub in the room.

Bilbo wondered how he had come so far as to recognise doms and subs on sight alone. He wasn’t sure if he could still make out if the doms were doms or switches, not that it mattered to Bilbo. The Shire didn’t have any doms and the custom was for subs to claim switches. Bilbo never had any inclination to take any effort to claim another as his own. Not before Thorin, anyway. Now, he wanted to make sure everyone knew Thorin was his and his alone. The thought of marking Thorin as his very own made Bilbo shiver inwardly. His skin prickled and sweat beaded over his top lip. Perhaps, he really had changed as a hobbit after all.

Before he had time to analyse the situation further, Beorn sat next to Bilbo and Ori came around too, curious to ask some questions about skin changers without offending Beorn. Their host was gracious enough to answer all his queries patiently while Bilbo was torn between an urge to be polite and sit through the conversation, and excuse himself to look for Thorin. His proper hobbit side won in the end and he munched on the dry bread, waiting for Ori to stop asking questions.

Eventually, though, Beorn started telling a story about his people and the beauty of the Vales of Anduin. He spoke of how the Great River would sparkle in the morning sun and the bears would sit in a huddle by the fire, casting great monstrous shapes everywhere they went. He spoke of camaraderie and his own brethren and Bilbo was captivated by the sadness in his voice, nodding because he understood it himself. He didn’t have the heart to ask Beorn about what had become of his kin. Did Beorn have a family? Were they lost to him like the Shire was probably lost to Bilbo? Smaug’s dull flame almost hung over Bilbo’s heart like a birdcatcher’s net and he felt his fingers itch, wanting a familiar dwarf’s skin to be under them. The idea could barely form coherently in his head before Beorn was starting another tale and Ori’s quill was like a murder of crows fleeing from the moon.

It was almost night outside when Bilbo finally found Beorn leaving and Ori returning to his place by the fire. Not wasting any time, lest someone else accost him, Bilbo got up and slipped out of Beorn’s halls.

***

He had barely walked ten steps when Bilbo heard a movement near Beorn’s bee hives. He belatedly realised that he was sans his sword; life at Beorn’s had made them all lax and drowsy. Bilbo patted his pocket, making sure that the ring was still there, before approaching the sound as cautiously as possible. He could feel a hundred eyes on him and it made him yearn for Thorin’s presence unusually.

The soles of his feet already drenched from the dew on the grass, Bilbo took step after steps till the movement was seen again. He froze and later, jumped back when Balin walked out of the shadows.

After their last chat, Bilbo had barely had any time to see Balin and truth be told, he was carefully avoiding him. Not that Balin had done him any disservice; he had acted as a good friend when he had warned Bilbo but if Bilbo knew Thorin at all - and he did - he was sure that serious words had passed between the two in his absence. There was also the fact that Balin had avoided his eyes at the dinner table and Bilbo had brushed it off as embarrassment. He had meant to have a chat with Balin later but Bilbo felt his courage giving away right now.

Balin looked almost eerie in the moonlight. Bilbo hardly had time to admire the fact that it was a full moon before the dwarf’s features came out of the shadow and his expressions were inscrutable. He let out a sigh and smiled broadly at Bilbo, rubbing his hands in a way that used to be friendly but would hereafter be ominous to Bilbo.

“Uhm, hello Balin. I saw movement, well, thought I’d inspect,” Bilbo felt lame, almost disobedient to be the first one to break the silence. Balin continued smiling his unnatural smile, stepping closer to Bilbo and making him hop backwards. Something - an instinct - inside Bilbo alerted him that he was in trouble. Why and from what, he didn’t know, but one thing he trusted more than anything was his instinct.

“I should be off, then, looking for Thorin, actually. Er, goodbye,” Bilbo finished. He was half turned when Balin spoke - no, tsked - out loud.

“Thorin? Why should you be looking for Thorin, a fine thing like you. The forest is no place for delicate creatures, Bilbo,” he had taken multiple steps during this statement and Bilbo had a strong urge to place as much distance between himself and Balin as possible. And yet, something stopped him. The same tiny feeling that reiterated the fact that speaking out of turn might be unruly.

All Bilbo could do was stay overpowered on the same spot but thankfully, Balin stopped trying to close the gap between them. He was still close enough to cause something clench in Bilbo’s gut but far away to not be an immediate danger. Danger?! Surely, he couldn’t be characterising Balin as such. Bilbo wondered if the quietness of the night was playing tricks on his mind but Balin’s next words, uttered harshly and with a straight command put such charitable thoughts out of Bilbo’s head.

“Stand straight, Bilbo, facing me,” Bilbo turned, despite himself, “yesss, just like that,” Balin practically crooned and Bilbo’s blood turned to sleet in his veins.

In some part of Bilbo’s mind, he remembered reading about a great wizard called Saruman. The one whose voice had monstrous chandeliers melting into dust under his feet. His father had sat down with him once and told him a story about how he could turn entire armies against each other simply by talking to them. Balin couldn’t be… no. And yet…

“I stand by what I said to you about Thorin, Bilbo. He would cast you aside when he gets his crown. You are nothing but a diversion to him, believe me.” Balin mock sighed, surveying Bilbo and eyes raking over his tiny form uncomfortably. He licked his lips before continuing.

“Kings do not go for halflings. He will break your heart, Bilbo. Instead, I offer you mine.” Balin kept talking like it was the most natural thing to say these things and Bilbo wasn’t close to tears in his fear and shame.

“I would be good to you, I promise. I will care for you and provide for you. I will swathe you in mithril and jewels, you will sleep on the softest of beds and the finest of sheets. I will give you everything you deserve and more.” Bilbo simply stared at Balin, he couldn’t help but. Thoughts, uncertain ones, were clouding his heart. Could Balin be right? Their union had always been something of a mystery to Bilbo.

Almost as if he was in Bilbo’s head and understood his thoughts, Balin smiled. That same ghastly smile that Bilbo should have run from the moment he saw it. Why did he have to be so curious? He should have just been on his way when he had the chance.

“Take a bow, Bilbo,” the stinging command was uttered and Bilbo was in the midst of following it when he heard something drop with a thump, close enough to break the pitiful revelry. His fingers reached for his ring even as he turned around towards the source of the sound. It was Ori, standing near the door, his journal and a pile of books at his feet and mouth open as he saw Bilbo disappear into thin air.

Bilbo ran towards the forest as he had never run before, and he could hear an inhuman shriek of frustration behind him that had surely come from Balin but he had no time to make sure of it, he would not make that mistake again. Bilbo ran and ran until the forest was all around him and only then did he take the ring off.

***

Kili had almost gotten the fire going when the rustling made him reach for his bow. He turned around and of course, Fili had heard it too. Before they could investigate, however, Bilbo came out of the dark and into the light of the brazen fire. He was white as a sheet and practically bumped into Kili in his haste.

“Bilbo, are you alright?” Kili said and that was when Bilbo noticed them. Without any word he flung himself into Kili’s arms and started sobbing in earnest. With a confused look towards Fili and his dom instincts disarmed, Kili started petting Bilbo’s hair.

“What is it? Hey, it’s okay, you’re okay. What’s wrong?” Kili led Bilbo towards a gnarled root of the tree he had planned to rest against. Bilbo shivered in the night, not letting out a word but still crying. Kili took off his coat, tucking it securely around Bilbo’s small frame but still holding him close. He raised a brow at Fili who responded with the same confusion before flopping down next to Bilbo and rubbing his back. The first thing he did was make sure that Bilbo wasn’t dropping. However, the soothing presence of another did its job and soon Bilbo had graduated to sniffling quietly. And yet, not a word had passed through his lips. He placed his head on Fili’s shoulder, taking deep breaths and settling himself.

Alas, this was a night of confusion and action, and it was not over yet.

***

Dwalin ran into the forest, looking for Bilbo. He tried to rein in his heart but even switches were influenced by the rise. He had practically screamed down the halls of Beorn, looking for Ori and when he hadn’t found him, his mind had immediately gone towards Bilbo. He had seen them together, sitting by the fire for the past two days, their heads together and effortless conversation flowing between them. It had made his blood boil and yet, he had kept his distance. Not until the rise, he had promised himself. Not until he had laid himself bare in front of Ori. And now, that too had been snatched away from him.

His mind was deluged by the images of Ori and Bilbo, locked together in a tight embrace, whispering promises to each other in between gasping breaths. It almost made him hurl. _His Ori_ , his mind supplied, and yet, Dwalin wasn’t so far gone into the rise to not correct himself. Not yet, he reminded himself again. First, he would confront Bilbo about his intentions. A part of him knew that what he might find might wreck him forever, but he also knew that if Ori really loved Bilbo, he would give them their blessing and he would cast his feelings aside. The very idea of not belonging to Ori was like taking an arrow to the gut.

After more minutes of running through the dark forest, he heard voices, distant murmurs, and he saw the fire. He rushed towards it like a barfly to ale.

What he saw, however, made the anger within him die down, just a little. Bilbo was huddled in a mass of Fili and Kili, his expression sombre. Ori wasn’t around, Dwalin realised in unfettered joy. But the rise wasn’t kind, the rise offered no respite from its cruelty. When the rise blessed, it was unrestrained, but when it punished, it could be colder than the moon itself. And so, Dwalin wondered if Bilbo was waiting for Ori, if they all were.

The huddle around the fire noticed Dwalin’s presence and every eye turned towards him.

“I wish to have a word with Bilbo,” Dwalin tried to sound an authoritative as possible, not letting his fear show. Bilbo flinched at the mention of his own name and Kili stood up, something like realisation dawning in his eyes.

“He is not in a fit state to talk, Dwalin. Perhaps, la-” Dwalin cut him off with a frustrated growl.

“No, I need to speak to him now. I must clear something up.”

Bilbo and Fili sat transfixed as Dwalin and Kili stared at each other. A part of Bilbo was grateful that he had found these two in the forest. He wasn’t sure he could stand another ordeal this night. The words exchanged between the two were a distant hum in his ears. Bilbo found it difficult to concentrate, like blood was filing in his lungs and blacking out his vision. A part of him reminded him that he had been looking for Thorin but that didn’t matter anymore. He let his eyes move around, trying to focus and instead, noticing things he never would have noticed before.

He drank in the way Fili’s mouth seemed raw and red, his clothes in disarray. He noticed a twig hiding in Kili’s hair, almost captivating Bilbo before he noticed the telltale bulge in front of his pants. Bilbo’s senses were aflame and he glanced towards Fili, captivated by the realisation. The conversation between Kili and Dwalin flitted into his ears again.

“I know what you wish to talk about, Dwalin, but it is done. The doms and subs choose each other. No one else can interfere with the fate Mahal has in store for all of us.” Kili said his share and went back to pull Bilbo closer to himself, almost raring Dwalin to hurt the hobbit.

Dwalin stood dumbstruck at those words. _Kili knew_. How could Kili possibly know about this. Dwalin had been so careful, so very careful around Ori. He had trained himself to be aloof, he had schooled his expressions after hours in front of the mirror to not let his feelings show when he looked at Ori. How could Kili have any idea about this?

“You’re affected by the rise, Dwalin. Turn back and everything would be fine tomorrow,” there was no harshness in Kili’s words. Dwalin almost made to turn around, having no energy left to fight with words or sword when Thorin ran into the clearing, the bushes rustling around him.

His mouth opened to enquire when his eyes fell on Bilbo, curled up in Kili’s arms. Kili’s coat draped over his shoulders and his face… he had been crying, Thorin could see the tear tracks glistening in the light from the fire.

“Bilbo…” The rise was relentless in its brutality and what Thorin saw, made him snarl.

“My own blood…” he whispered, almost deranged, and Kili practically pushed Bilbo away from him, trying to explain the situation to Thorin.

Bilbo watched the scene unfold in front of him, sapped of energy. He just wanted to sleep for a while, if he could just do that, he would be fine. The buzzing in his ears was getting stronger but then, Fili was leaning closer to him.

“Quick, Bilbo, call his name. Call him to you,” Fili muttered urgently in Bilbo’s ears.

Fili’s words barely registered in Bilbo’s mind because he couldn’t take his eyes off Thorin. Bilbo was dumbstruck. He had never seen Thorin this angry and agitated. He almost looked deranged. He wanted to call Thorin to him, curl up in his arms and forget about this night forever. What had come on to him? Did he have too much ale?

“Don’t be scared of him, Bilbo. Please, he will… I don’t know what he might do to Kili. Just say his name. Bilbo, please! It’s his instinct, he wouldn’t be able to fight it.” Fili’s fingers were digging into Bilbo’s arms as Thorin took quick steps towards Kili, almost ready to strike him. Shaken out of a daze, Bilbo - still confused about everything that was going on - called for Thorin.

The moment the name slipped out of his lips, the movement from Bilbo made the overlarge coat slide down his shoulders and Thorin stilled. His expression, which had been frenzied mere moments ago, changed into something almost worshipful.

“Thorin, come here, please,” and Bilbo didn’t even have to pretend that he really needed Thorin. Needed him more than he ever had. Thorin gravitated towards him like a moth to fire, not even stopping for breath, as he knelt in front of Bilbo and allowed his hobbit to crash into his arms.

Bilbo was awash with the happy realisation that it was all going to be fine now when Thorin’s arms pulled him into himself. And Bilbo kissed his throat, his neck, anywhere he could reach. He realised that he was crying again but he didn’t care. Thorin was here and he was safe, completely secure.

“You are never leaving me alone again with this band of lunatics,” he sniffled in Thorin’s throat and Thorin kissed his head. “Mine,” Bilbo whispered, loud enough for everyone to hear and Thorin muttered, “yours,” as quietly as he could.

“Are you dropping?” Thorin lifted Bilbo’s chin to look at him properly, his thumb wiping the tears away and settling at Bilbo’s cheek. Bilbo shook his head, eager to hide under Thorin’s chin and never emerge.

“No, look here, look at me. Can you breathe?” Thorin asked again and Bilbo nodded, taking a deep breath and glowing as Thorin smiled encouragingly at him. Thorin’s fingers travelled to Bilbo’s neck, right under his ear, so that he could feel his pulse fluttering. After a second or perhaps, it was a minute, he breathed again, letting Bilbo nuzzle him under his chin.

“What happened?” He asked when the kisses had left him more clear headed than ever and Bilbo was getting comfortable in his arms.

“I- dwarves happened! That is what happened!” Bilbo felt his rage and fear pour out of him in waves. “Everyone is trying to attack me. I have done nothing!” Thorin was struck by how adorable Bilbo looked when he was miffed but he had the good sense not to say anything. When the rise gave, it was kinder than all the Gods.

“Thank Aulë, I found Fili and Kili. I don’t know what-” and as soon as the anger had appeared, it left, leaving Bilbo more tired than ever.

“Shh, it’s okay now.” Thorin kissed Bilbo’s forehead, only just noticing Dwalin.

“I want everyone to sit down and tell me exactly what’s going on or so help me Mahal.”

***

Dwalin had witnessed the entire thing without uttering another word and feeling as confused as ever. Bilbo was a sub. Thorin belonged to Bilbo. And from the looks of it, they were as attached as any dom and sub Dwalin had ever known. A remote part of his brain, untouched by the rise, reminded him that he had no proof about Bilbo being a switch. He had tied himself into knots trying to solve this particular mystery and was grateful when Thorin commanded everyone to sit down.

***

The moment Thorin rushed to Bilbo, Fili rushed to his brother, not caring about all the eyes, if any, that were on him. For a second, he had truly feared about Kili’s life. Doms in the rise could be particularly vicious and pig-headed, not to mention stronger than ever before. He had seen the weakest of doms uproot trees in their madness when they were rising. Kili let his brother nuzzle him without abandon and heaved a sigh of relief. He wasn’t sure he could have taken his uncle. Switches weren’t a match for doms on the rise.

When he kissed Fili, he wasn’t sure if he was assuring himself or his brother. In an outlandish part of his mind, he knew Thorin would now ask questions about Fili and him. He would be appalled that his nephew was a switch. He wouldn’t understand how they could both act as doms with each other. He wouldn’t let them be.

***

Thorin looked at the hollow under his best friend’s eyes. It had been ages since they had sat down and enjoyed a pipe together. Dwalin looked like he was someone on the brink of death and Thorin was aware how he must be feeling. He himself wasn’t unaffected by the rise, after all.

“Dwalin, why are you here?” Thorin felt Bilbo peek out from under his chin. He had removed his coat and draped it around his sub’s form, feeling satisfied at the way Bilbo wriggled around in it before settling back in Thorin’s arms. It melted his heart to see the warmth returning to Bilbo’s tiny form slowly but steadily.

Dwalin looked from Fili and Kili - who had given up all pretence of being just brothers and were currently sitting with their backs resting against each other, resolutely looking away from Thorin as their hands clasped tightly - to his king and best friend. He took a deep breath and decided to come clean, perhaps he would get some answers this way.

“I- Ori. I… care for Ori.” Thorin’s eyes widened at the admission but if he had any thoughts about this, he kept them to himself. And then Dwalin muttered another explosive admission, feeling scared for the first time in his life.

“And I’m a switch.” He waited patiently for Thorin to get up, disgusted and repulsed by him, and studied his boots but it never arrived. When he looked up, Thorin’s eyes were wide and Bilbo was muttering something quietly at him. Without a word, his king nodded again, asking Dwalin continue.

Slightly perturbed by the lack of reaction but, nonetheless, getting some confidence from the developments, Dwalin soldiered on.

“I couldn’t find Ori and I had seen him and... Master Baggins busy in conversations many a time. So, I came looking for him here, into the forest.” He left out the part about wanting to die from the sheer agony of his suspicions and more so now, that they had been proven wrong.

However, Thorin didn’t miss a beat. He caught on to the unsaid words, narrowing his eyes at Dwalin.

“So, you thought Bilbo and Ori… _oh, Dwalin_!” Dwalin knew he would have flung his hands in the air if they weren’t wrapped around his sub protectively. Thorin was under the impression that everyone knew about him and Bilbo. Dwalin shook his head, reading the question in his eyes.

“I had been busy… these past couple of months. Especially these last few days.” At this, Thorin nodded, understanding dawning in his eyes.

Dwalin looked towards Fili and Kili to find Kili gaping at him. It annoyed him enough to bristle at the young prince.

“Aye, what are you gaping at? You knew all this! And I would very much like to know how you found out because no one- WHAT!” Kili had gone from staring at Dwalin like a cuttlefish to sniggering at Fili who simply rolled his eyes.

“We thought you were in love with Thorin and were angry that he had been claimed by Bilbo.” Kili continued sniggering, despite several elbows from his brother and actually fell down when Thorin let out an undignified yelp at the information.

Sadly, though, they only had a few minutes of respite from the tension. As Kili’s laughter petered out into silent sniggers, they heard Dwalin’s name echoing in the forest. A few seconds later, Ori practically flew into the clearing.

***

Ori thought he had witnessed some form of mirage when Balin step closer to Bilbo. He knew he should get Dori or Nori but he had never had a chance to witness the effects of the rise on a stray dom first hand. If he could, he would write it all down right now, lest he forget it. Balin spoke in an uneven tone and Ori was so far away, he could only make out a few words that slipped past the din inside the house. He quietly closed the door and stood, staring at the spectacle in front of his eyes.

It was only when Balin asked Bilbo to bow down that Ori was shaken out of his skin. His books and his journal slipped out of his hands and before he could rush back in, he saw it or rather, _unsaw_ it.

Bilbo had just disappeared into thin air before turning around to look at him. Ori couldn’t believe what he had just seen and he would have brushed it off as the side effect of the rise on subs when Balin let out a barbaric cry, his hands flapping about in the air right in front of him. Ori wasn’t even sure if Balin remembered looking right at him mere moments ago.

He saw Balin disappear behind the beehives in a fit of mad rage and knew that this was bad. He had two options - he could go back in and call his brothers. They would know what to do but again, would they help make sure Bilbo was safe? More than that, would they even believe what Ori had seen? Ori trusted his brothers more than anything in the world but he had also trusted Balin. Granted, a stray dom wasn’t in his right mind when the rise hit but after what he had just witnessed, he didn’t know if he could trust his brothers to find Bilbo and bring him safely back home. There was just one other choice - he would look for Dwalin. Yes, Ori knew there was one dwarf he could completely trust in all this madness and that was Dwalin. Dwalin was gruff and on occasion, rude, but he radiated safety. Ori had felt it whenever they were close. Instead of being disconcerted by it, he had patiently waited for Dwalin to realise it too.

When he had noticed Dwalin going missing these past couple of days, he knew what was going on. A part of him was extremely happy, wanting to hug and nuzzle Dwalin senseless but he still waited for the switch to admit everything to him. He would, Ori was sure of it, do it when he was on the rise. It simply couldn’t be helped when Mahal blessed every dom, sub and switch on the day of the full moon.

Knowing that Bilbo must have gone to Thorin, Ori made the decision to go looking for Bilbo himself. He still wasn’t sure where Bilbo had gone but Ori had read enough things to not believe in everything his eyes witnessed.

***

“Ori!” Dwalin thought his heart might throb right out of his chest at the sight of his destined. He got up so quickly, it made him a bit dizzy and then, Ori was rushing towards him. The tiny dwarf touched Dwalin’s arm, making sure that he was alright.

“Are you okay?” Dwalin asked, breathless and itching to wrap Ori in his arms. He noticed how Ori had come without his coat and looked out of breath. Before the urge to wrap his own around Ori became too much and he made a right joke of himself in front of his friends, he heard Kili cough pointedly and rolled his eyes.

“Yes, I am fine. What’s- what is going on?” Ori looked around and saw Bilbo wrapped securely in Thorin’s arms. He let out a breath of relief, finally looking at Dwalin again. It made something ache inside him to see Dwalin so out of his element, his hand fisted at the hem of his own tunic.

It was impulse that made Ori reach up to the bearded face and brush the braid away. “I am okay,” he muttered again as Dwalin practically shuddered under him.

“I- Ori, I want to say… well-” Dwalin had never found his tongue to be such an ordeal before. There was so much he wanted to say but the words simply would not come out. He tried to remember the speech he had rehearsed over and over in front of the mirror but fragments returned to him. Not bloody enough, Dwalin thought angrily, touched by how patient Ori looked as he let him finish. After a few seconds, Dwalin had almost made up his mind to give up, make an excuse, run away and probably tackle Smaug on his own just to have a chance at dying when Ori cleared his throat. All eyes turned towards the little dwarf and for once, Kili wasn’t laughing.

“I know, it’s okay,” was all Ori said before standing up on tiptoes and offering Dwalin a small peck on the lips. He waited for Dwalin to respond and respond he did, by wrapping his arms around Ori’s small form and ignoring Kili’s filthy wolf whistle as his lips settled on Ori’s for a chaste kiss.

“Aww, what a happy ending!” Kili guffawed in the background and got whacked on his head by his brother. Thorin hid his face in Bilbo’s hair, too embarrassed to look anywhere else.

Ori smiled sweetly at Dwalin before finally remembering why he had come here in the first place.

“Balin… he needs help. I saw him…accost Bilbo,” Ori chanced a glance to the thing in Thorin’s arms and knew how Bilbo would react before it even happened. He felt extremely sorry for the poor hobbit caught up in their mess.

Bilbo shuddered in Thorin’s arms, trying his best not to let Thorin see his face. When Thorin pulled back, lifting his chin with his finger and peering into his eyes questioningly, Bilbo completely broke down.

“I couldn’t…I am so sorry, Thorin. I am so sorry, sorry, I didn’t mean to,” Thorin was flummoxed at this sudden burst of emotion and took Bilbo’s face in his hands, whispering soothing words at him to calm him down. But Bilbo continued apologising for Mahal knows what.

“What is it? Bilbo? Ori?” Thorin turned towards Ori, the question written clear in his glance.

“I saw him asking Bilbo to bow down before… before Bilbo fled to the forest.” If Ori could catch Bilbo’s eyes right this second, he would have seen gratefulness in them.

Now, it made sense to Thorin.

“Shh, it’s okay. It’s fine, Bilbo,” Thorin whispered at his agitated sub, worried to his bone and feeling angry at himself for having left his hobbit alone for the sake of a stupid custom.

“No, it’s not fine. He asked me to bow and… I did. But I couldn’t help it. I swear, Thorin, I wanted to stop and run, but he sounded so… different, it felt impossible- you believe me, right?” Thorin felt so broken at the guilty expression on Bilbo’s face that he had to rest his forehead against his hobbit’s and close his eyes.

“Of course, I believe you. It wasn’t your fault, Bilbo. I understand that a sub finds it difficult to disobey a direct command from a dom, and during the rise, it is practically impossible.” He opened his eyes to see Bilbo’s shining with tears of gratitude and that wrecked him even more.

Thorin rubbed his nose against his sub’s. “Mine,” he muttered, not waiting for Bilbo to finish the vow before he was claiming his mouth in a searing kiss. Bless hobbits for discovering multiple benefits of the tongue because Thorin was sure a chaste peck could never have communicated everything he wanted to say to Bilbo but couldn’t. Bilbo’s lips parted willingly against Thorin’s and he kissed him back like he was drowning for him. He heard a collective gasp pass through all the dwarves (mostly Kili) but for once, Bilbo didn’t care. He moaned out loud when their tongues slid hot and wanting against each other and it was only when they drew back, their need to breathe overcoming their craving for more, that Bilbo finally felt at peace.

He muttered, “Yours” against Thorin’s chin and the dwarf kissed him once on each fluttering eyelid and again on his forehead even as Kili muttered “Whoa, Fee we have to try that”, too loudly for anyone’s comfort.

“Stay here, amrâlimê. I will be back in a few minutes. Let me just look around the forest with Dwalin and then I would carry you back,” Thorin muttered against Bilbo’s forehead, getting up and nodding at Dwalin who exchanged similar words with Ori.

When they left, Ori sat down next to Bilbo, Kili and Fili. Bilbo realised that this was the time to get some of his questions answered about the rise.

“So, what is the rise? Someone please tell me,” he rubbed his face, exhausted beyond years. Kili and Fili exchanged bewildered glances but Ori was the one who spoke.

“Every dom goes through the rise when the moon is in his complete glory; it is the blessing of Mahal. Doms prove to their partners how much they love and care for them, that they can provide for them. Since dwarves only fall in love once in their lifetime, the rise is more strenuous for them than men or elves.” Bilbo nodded, satisfied. He needed more answers but he would ask Thorin about it later.

“So, hobbits don’t experience the rise, then?” Fili asked, reading the thoughts that were going through his brother’s mind and sparing him the trouble.

Bilbo shook his head. “We only have switches and those too are rare. Almost every hobbit is a sub but it doesn’t matter in the Shire. Hobbits seldom have time to claim their destined and I am pretty sure we wouldn’t notice the “rise” if it danced naked in front of us.” Fili’s eyebrows practically rose out of his forehead at the information but he didn’t say anything else.

Ori, however, continued.

“Switches too are influenced by the rise but not as much as doms. And subs have a side effect, they feel lethargic and drowsy, and that is how it is supposed to be. Doms take care of them and present them with jewels, to make their bond binding forever.” Ori smiled at that, feeling happy that Bilbo was interested in the story.

“They give their sub two beads - one is to be braided in the sub’s hair and another in the dom’s. The beads are worn and are to be visible so that the dom and sub can proclaim their love for each other,” he finished, stoking the fire and warming his hands by it.

Bilbo was struck by how wise Ori was and how, he had always thought of the dwarf as nothing more than a child. He was certainly more grown up than Bilbo and a part of him supplied that he probably was. Bilbo started going through the past days in his head, trying to reconcile certain events with this new information about the rise that he had received. He wished Thorin had warned him about all this in advance, he would have locked his room and stayed in till it passed.

“Just let Thorin care for you, don’t fight it. You feel it too, don’t you?” Fili asked and Bilbo nodded. Spending this last hour in Thorin’s embrace had been otherworldly and even though he had only been gone for some minutes, Bilbo felt a prickling in his skin at the absence.

“It’s a dom’s privilege to care for his sub during the rise, it’s their instinct. It makes us feel wanted,” Fili muttered, patting Bilbo’s arm.

“But what happened to Balin? I’m not… his sub.” Even mentioning Balin made Bilbo curl up against himself. Fili, Kili and Ori looked at each other, before Kili answered.

“Doms and subs that are attached don’t feel it but unattached ones can sometimes, not always, go a little berserk during the rise. They forget if a sub is claimed and just go for him. When Balin asked you to take a bow-” Kili reached out and squeezed Bilbo’s hand when the hobbit looked pained, “-he was trying to have you claim him. And since the pull of the rise is so strong, it is practically impossible for the dom or the sub to keep emotions in check.” Bilbo nodded, still feeling guilty about the entire incident.

“Does that mean that Thorin… would I have to do anything I don’t wish to do?” Bilbo wasn’t expecting Fili to look so revolted at that idea.

“No, Bilbo, you don’t understand. This is the day when doms are completely at their sub’s mercy. Their need to care and protect overpowers all else. In fact, you would have to make sure that Thorin eats and drinks as he pampers you senseless. Your dom would never force you to do anything against your will,” he murmured.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend,” Bilbo muttered hurriedly and Fili smiled at him, shaking his head.

“Stop apologising for everything, will you?” Kili laughed, poking Bilbo’s arm, and making him grin.

Perhaps, this day wasn’t going to be so bad after all, Bilbo mused.

***

When Dwalin and Thorin returned, they were red in the face. Despite the chill in the air, both the dwarves were sweating and panting. The night had completely enveloped them all and Kili was discussing whether he should get more firewood when he saw Dwalin from a distance. They informed everyone that Balin could not be found but Nori and Beorn were still looking.

Taking one look at the almost dead fire, Dwalin nodded at Ori who looked down, blushing, before he was scooped up in broad arms. Bilbo was thrown at the look of pure bliss on Ori’s face and when he turned around, Thorin, Fili and Kili were wearing proud and slightly embarrassed smiles.

When Thorin turned to Bilbo and bent over, giving him a small peck on the lips and moving to slide his arms under the hobbit’s legs to carry him, his parting words came back to Bilbo.

“... _then I would carry you back_.” He wondered if this was some dwarven custom but it made him blush red at being carried inside Beorn’s halls, with all eyes on him. He pulled back slightly, trying to catch Fili’s eyes and failing.

“What’s wrong? Are you hurt?” Thorin was immediately by his side, worried eyes warming Bilbo more than his fur coat.

“No… uhm, are you going to actually carry me? I can walk, you know, I’m fine,” Bilbo said, looping his arms around Thorin’s neck and waiting.

Thorin bit his lip, looking around. He was silent for a few seconds, like the words were forming in his mouth but couldn’t quite wrap around his tongue.

“It’s not… it’s traditional on the rise for the doms to carry their subs to their quarters for all to see. It is a proclamation of love and eternal commitment. And also, a warning to other doms. It’s okay if you don’t-” Thorin seemed to be physically hurting over this as he tried to pull back but Bilbo held on to him, surprised by his own strength.

“Okay…” he whispered, kissing Thorin on the nose for good measure, just to tell him that he wasn’t just saying it for his dom’s satisfaction. There was something agonisingly sweet about the way Thorin’s face lit up and Bilbo had to kiss him again, nodding at his dom before he was lifted off his feet.

If Thorin didn’t have a handful of warm and willing Bilbo in his arms, he would have enquired as to why Fili and Kili were staying in the forest alone when the night was so chilly.

The two dwarves were completely grateful for the rise.

****  
  
  
  


***

****  
  
  
  


Bilbo’s journey out of the forest was much more pleasant than his journey into it. Thorin carried him like he weighed nothing and for the first time that night, Bilbo wasn’t fearful of the darkness around him. Thorin’s intoxicating scent intermingled with the dewkissed greenery in Bilbo’s nose and had him squirming for something a lot more than just a kiss. He touched Thorin’s bearded cheek with his lips, daring to lick around the strong lines of his jaw and reaching right up to the earlobe that was almost presented to him on a platter. Feeling bravely wanton at the way Thorin’s eyelids fluttered and how he resolutely kept his gaze straight towards the clearing, Bilbo gently took the earlobe in his mouth and sucked. Thorin startled him with a loud groan that rang into the night and practically dropped Bilbo before regaining his composure and growling hungrily at his sub, although he was still looking anywhere but directly at Bilbo.

Bilbo was so breathless by the reaction he was getting from Thorin that he couldn’t wait to be alone with him.

When they passed through the gates, Bilbo felt Thorin holding him tighter and closer to his  body and he nuzzled him gently. No questions were asked from the others and every other thought fled from Bilbo’s head as the door to their room closed behind them and Thorin eased Bilbo on to the floor.

Bilbo had barely regained his balance when he was pinned against the wall, blue debauched eyes staring at him.

“You almost had me coming right there in the forest, Mahal!” Thorin groaned as he kissed Bilbo hungrily, arousal overcoming all propriety, and ran his hands all over his sub’s body, feeling something like mad abandon stir within him. Bilbo was so soft, so delicate. What if he was too rough with him? What if he hurt him? But when Bilbo bit his lower lip, hard enough to draw blood, Thorin completely lost it and had to pull back.

Grinning cheekily at his dom and marvelling at how brave he felt, Bilbo held on to Thorin, not letting him get away.

“What do you want to do?” Thorin was looking into Bilbo’s eyes again and Bilbo felt like his heart would stop. His courage wavering, he licked his lips, choosing to stay silent.

“Just tell me, I might do it, you know….” Thorin kissed his cheek, whispering now and making Bilbo feel like it was safe to come out and say what he was feeling, like this was their little secret.

Gulping, he muttered, “I want to claim you.” When Thorin’s eyes widened and he groaned, Bilbo had to smile. He muttered, “Please tell me that claiming means the same to hobbits as it does to dwarves?” Thorin muttered against Bilbo’s mouth, forehead resting against his sub’s and breathing hard. Bilbo felt daring and let his hand travel down the strong panes of Thorin’s chest. He was still wearing Thorin’s coat and one of the benefits was that his fingers could actually touch the exposed skin. His hands travelled lower, sliding towards Thorin’s back and dipping down. He grabbed a handful of Thorin’s arse and squeezed, just making sure that his dom understood what he meant. Thorin practically shivered at the flicker of confidence in Bilbo’s eyes and from the hand wantonly kneading his arse. 

“I want to claim you and mark you as mine,” Bilbo had no idea where these words were coming from. He wrapped his arms around Thorin’s waist, leaving that glorious arse alone for now and pulling him closer till the stood flush against each other.

“I want everyone to know that you belong to me and me alone,” Bilbo threw his head back and rutted against Thorin’s leg, and his dom whined under his words alone. “But more than anything, I want to taste every bit of you. May I?” Bilbo grinned like he just hadn’t destroyed Thorin. Thorin’s eyes were wilder than his hair and his breathing came out in short gasps. His mouth was so dry from the words that he had to kiss Bilbo over and over, just to feel something against his tongue. At last, Thorin lifted Bilbo up and made him wrap his legs around his waist, carrying the hobbit to their bed.

****  
  
  


***

**  
**

 

Again, as Thorin’s body landed on Bilbo’s, his mind was filled with warnings of being gentle with the hobbit. Bilbo’s throat and half his chest were exposed, bare except for certain red splotches and Thorin almost felt reverent as he felt his finger disappear under a flimsy shirt.

 

“This is not how I had planned for the night to go, just so you know,” he murmured against kiss swollen lips, the urgency from the moment before breathed out of his lungs from the sheer weight of this moment’s importance. Bilbo, who had his eyes closed and head thrown back in the most decadent of ways, looked up and smiled a shy half smile at the wondrous expression in Thorin’s eyes.

 

“What had you planned?” He leaned back, letting Thorin rest his head on his chest and enjoying the burn of his beard. He loosened his wrapped legs around Thorin’s waist, just a bit but not enough to relinquish all control. Being close to his dom seemed more important than air at this instant and the heavy weight on him felt like nothing to Bilbo.

 

“Well, I thought I would-” Thorin buried his face in the soft skin- “andigibumassag”. He didn’t want to look up, it was nice and warm here and he would stay till Bilbo’s skin swallowed him whole.

 

“What?” Bilbo’s hands lightly tangled in his hair, urging him to look up. And Thorin did.

 

He took a deep breath, looking away and ignoring Bilbo’s bemused expression at his dom’s sudden shyness. “And I’d give you a massage,” Thorin gestured towards the oils he’d had brought into the room that morning.

 

“We can do things your way if you want,” Bilbo kissed Thorin’s forehead once, then moved down to his eyelids, planting a kiss on each, then the tip of his nose. Then, he finally reached Thorin’s mouth and shuddered as Thorin slid up his body to grant him an easier access, strong arms parked on either side of Bilbo.

 

Bilbo kept his mouth a millimeter away from Thorin’s, relishing in the way his dom squirmed over his slightly slipping control. Every time Thorin would wriggle, trying to claim Bilbo’s mouth, Bilbo would tighten his legs around his waist and rub their erections together.

 

“Like I said, we can do this any other time you want, my king,” he breathed, finally giving in and letting Thorin kiss him. Before the kiss could become anything more than just a slide of lips and tongue, Bilbo put his hand on Thorin’s chest.

 

“We should undress.” Thorin’s eyes widened as Bilbo slid away from him, standing on the floor. His toes squirmed against the ground as he let his shirt fall away from his shoulders, glacial in his pace. As every bit of clothing was robbed off his skin, Bilbo never broke eye contact with Thorin. He relished how Thorin’s hands had stilled on his own shirt. As Bilbo stood naked in front of him, extremely shy but equally eager, his hands travelled down, making it a point to touch his nipples, his belly button and then landing on his cock.

 

He raised a brow at Thorin whose hips were unconsciously thrusting up in small movements and stilled the moment Bilbo locked eyes with him again. As he pumped his cock once, twice, Thorin’s hands started moving again and only stilled until the entire paraphernalia of battle that he wore on his torso was shed. When he kicked off his boots and they landed on the floor, he looked at Bilbo again, gaze travelling down towards his hand that was slowly pumping him to hardness.

 

He stopped, turned around, and gave Thorin a breathtaking sight of his pert bottom as he retrieved the oils from where Thorin had had them placed, and returned to find his dom completely bare. Bilbo’s mouth watered at the sight of strong swordlike panes of his body, not an inch of extra flesh anywhere. Thorin was built like Erebor, stark and beautiful.

When he saw Bilbo arriving, Thorin smiled a nervous smile. His eyes burned with the light of a hundred moons and Bilbo was the sun they radiated off.

Bilbo placed the bottle on the bed and climbed up, tapping Thorin’s knees and instructing him to place the soles of his feet flat against the bed. He wanted to get started and the fluttering hole looked inviting enough but it was the bead glistening on the head of Thorin’s already straining cock that caught his eye.

 _If dwarves didn’t kiss with tongues, did they not use them at other places either?_ To a hobbit, claiming meant to wreck completely, and Bilbo intended to do exactly that. Thorin had his face turned away from him, breathing heavily against his elbow.

“Are you okay?” Bilbo whispered, climbing on top of him and feeling the slow burn of Thorin’s skin against his own body. Thorin nodded. He tried to say something but it came out as a groan, emboldening Bilbo. Bilbo started from his throat, kissing the bobbing Adam’s apple and covering it with his mouth as he sucked on it and Thorin’s moans reverberated against his tongue. Then he went down to the strong chest he had curled up against so many times. Bilbo let his fingers graze the thatch of hair there and rubbed his thumb over a nipple, enjoying the delicious rise and fall of Thorin’s chest.

As he bent down and took one in his mouth, Khuzdul flowed freely from Thorin’s tongue and his hand, which he was using for hiding his face, came to rest on Bilbo’s head. There was something extremely erotic about it and yet, Bilbo felt restraint in Thorin’s voice. Like he was a lot more devastated than he was letting on. As Bilbo’s tongue mercilessly slid and wriggled against the nub, Thorin’s moans grew louder and harsher, and Bilbo realised something - no one had made love to Thorin like this. It should not have been a surprise, after all. Thorin responded most deliciously to the barest of contacts, even when there weren’t too many occasions involved, and something tightened in Bilbo’s chest. He was the only one who had seen Thorin like this and there would be no one else who would reduce the King to whimpers and moans.

“Mahal, you are going to end me, aren’t you?” Thorin’s sighs broke into Bilbo’s thoughts and he had to withdraw, just to admire his handiwork. Thorin was drenched in sweat, his hair was already in disarray and more than anything, he looked like he had run a thousand miles.

“Have you… been claimed before?” Bilbo ventured, hands travelling down Thorin’s sides and squeezing his thigh.

Thorin looked at him like Bilbo had lost his mind. “I have bedded others before, yes. But I have never been claimed,” he looked up to find Bilbo smiling.

“Why, have you claimed someone before?” /he asked. Bilbo sighed, shaking his head.

“But I know what feels good. A few switches here and there. One dom once, a traveller.” He shrugged absent-mindedly, trying to push the memory of that dom away from his mind at a time like this.

Thorin’s broad hand cradled Bilbo’s shoulder, thumb grazing his collarbone in the most pleasant of ways. Bilbo let the hand cup his face and nuzzled into the palm before Thorin’s thumb started trailing his lips. Bilbo popped it in his mouth and Thorin let out a choked moan at the sight. And then he had to close his eyes because Bilbo did it to all his fingers, making it a point to suck and moan. When he popped the fingers out,Thorin was too far gone to notice.

Bilbo kissed down the sculpted stomach and felt an almost feral urge to nibble at the barely present flesh around Thorin’s waist. He gave in to impulse and grazed Thorin’s navel with his teeth, placing open mouthed kisses around the very sensitive area right above the place that most demanded his attention. He kissed and licked, and moaned as Thorin started chanting his name like a hymn. As Bilbo’s mouth refused to be fettered, he moved down and buried his face in the tangle of hair, making sure not to give Thorin any friction whatsoever, and just drenching himself in a scent that seemed like a celebration of sorts in his heart. When Thorin stilled under him, not even daring to groan, Bilbo completely bypassed his hardened cock and instead chose to lick and bite down strong thighs, the sensitive squirmy part behind Thorin’s knees really delighting him.

“Please…” Thorin moaned and thrashed under him, making Bilbo very happy indeed and shaking all other ideas out of his head.

Bilbo travelled up again, at the same glacial pace he had maintained despite the constant disagreements of his own patience. When he was face to face with Thorin’s impressive erection, his hand gently cradled his dom’s balls and Bilbo licked his lips.

He could feel Thorin’s eyes on him but right now, he needed to concentrate. The wrecking bit of “claiming” would begin here, Bilbo wondered, but if Thorin’s persistent squirming were any evidence, it already had.

He kissed Thorin’s balls, two of his knuckles pressing right under them and fluttering ever so close to his opening. Then, in a fit of bravado, he popped one in his mouth and he heard Thorin moan like he'd been shot.

“You…oh Mahal! I cannot believe-” his words were cut short when Bilbo rolled his tongue around it, and popped both in. He sucked them lightly, grazing them ever so slightly with his teeth, and completely destroying all restraint Thorin had hoped to hold on to. Bilbo felt heady at the sounds Thorin was making, it was like flying at the back of the eagles again. After he had tormented his dom enough (and enjoyed the moment as much as possible without killing him), Bilbo focussed his attention on Thorin’s cock which was screaming for attention as much as its owner.

“Bilbo…” Thorin sounded like he’d forgotten how to string two words together and Bilbo looked up.

“Are you going to- I’ve never-” Bilbo merely smiled at how fractured Thorin’s voice sounded, and he hadn’t even begun. He wanted to make sure that Thorin got a perfect view of this.

When Bilbo stuck his tongue out to lick the vein running under Thorin’s cock, Thorin thought he would burn from the sheer eroticism of it but if he thought this was the most cruel Bilbo could be, he was wrong. Bilbo looked Thorin straight in the eye and guided his wet head into his mouth, closing his eyes just to memorise the sheer taste of Thorin and opening them only to freeze the expression on Thorin’s bliss addled face in his mind. He circled his tongue around the head and dared to wriggle the tip, just the tip, around the slit when he was rewarded with more Khuzdul. He knew Thorin was holding back and so, he swallowed the entire length in his mouth. For an excrutiating second, he allowed himself to feel the velvet heaviness of it on his tongue. He hollowed his cheeks just to enjoy the burn of Thorin’s extensive girth against his lips.

Thorin watched the sight, trying his best not to shut his eyes and throw his head back to thrust freely into the wet heat of Bilbo’s mouth. Bilbo would close his eyes from time to time, the sheer look of bliss on his face almost making Thorin come down his throat. No, he reminded himself. He would only come when Bilbo was in him, when he had been fucked right out of him mind. And yet, when Bilbo started bobbing his head and Thorin couldn’t keep his eyes open, he thought his paper thin resolve would wisp out.

When the head of his cock hit the back of Bilbo’s throat and his sub swallowed around him, Thorin had to give up. His fingers curled painfully in Bilbo’s curls and he screamed out, imploring his hobbit to resurface. Bilbo moaned before he resurfaced, eyes hungry and disoriented with lust.

“Too much?” Bilbo looked delicious and unbelievably sensual with his lips red and swollen, saliva pooling around the corners of his mouth. Thorin wanted to know if he could taste himself on his sub’s lips and so, he pulled Bilbo up. There was nothing teasing about this kiss, it was raw unbridled passion. Thorin felt lightheaded and feral at the same time when he kissed Bilbo, his arms wrapping them together so tight that he was sure his fingers would leave marks where they dug into Bilbo’s waist.

“Claim me, now,” he gasped when the need to breathe pulled them apart.

“Hmm, let me get the oils.” Bilbo made to move but Thorin wouldn’t relinquish his hold over his hobbit. Bilbo laughed and kissed him on the nose again and Thorin decided that these were the ones he liked best. “I can’t open you up like this, you stubborn dwarf.”

“You don’t need to. Just claim me, it would be fine,” Thorin muttered, rubbing his bearded cheek against his sub’s smooth one, bribing him to stay. Bilbo gave him a look that screamed confusion. This was when Thorin realised that perhaps, there were some technical differences in what claiming entailed for dwarves and hobbits.

“I- it would hurt, Thorin…” Bilbo’s voice trailed off.

“Yes, but that’s the charm of claiming, isn’t it?” He offered, kissing Bilbo’s mouth chastely. The hobbit wouldn’t budge.

“You have no idea how much it hurts. Believe me, there is nothing charming about it,” Thorin thought he saw something in his sub’s face and decided to explain further.

“As dwarves, we claim like our first sword is moulded. Freely and without help.”

“As hobbits, we refuse to hurt our partners, mostly because we love them and cherish them more than any treasure,” came Bilbo’s reply, almost angry. “I would not claim you like that. I would not hurt you.” Thorin knew there was a story behind it but now was not the time to bring it up, especially when his erection was rubbing against Bilbo’s stomach and making him see stars. Bilbo pouted at him, turning his face away and Thorin realised that he would do anything to make that look go away, even if it was throwing traditions out of the window.

He pulled Bilbo closer. “Hmm, okay, have it your way then.” When Bilbo didn’t smile, he whispered “Mine” against his lips and was rewarded with an exasperated but fond “Yours”.

Thorin planted his feet firmly against the thin bedding as Bilbo retrieved the oils, excitement and nervousness running in his veins. He had never done this to anyone else before but he knew the basic aspects of it. The fact that Bilbo had knowledge of what could completely drive someone out of their mind gave him strength as he uncorked the bottle and let the oil flow through his fingers. When they were liberally coated and Thorin’s heated (and slightly impatient) gaze was boring holes into him, Bilbo kissed his knee and pushed them apart.

Thorin instantly took in a shuddering breath as Bilbo reached between his cheeks. He spent a few seconds just massaging the ring of muscles and letting Thorin relax.

“Just breathe out, relax yourself,” Bilbo whispered. Thorin nodded at him and let out a sigh. It was captivating, the way his virginal hole fluttered as Bilbo’s finger pressed in. When Thorin let out another broken breath, his hand coming to wrap around Bilbo’s free arm, Bilbo pushed in, ever so gently, and his finger was devoured. He looked at Thorin, this was the time when he must be feeling the burn.

“Shh, you’re doing so well, so beautiful,” Bilbo’s voice washed over Thorin and he nodded. His eyes were closed but his cheeks burned at the knowledge that Bilbo had now seen all of him and he wasn’t repelled by his nervousness, that he actually thought Thorin was beautiful.

After wriggling his knuckle around a bit, Bilbo pushed the entire digit in and Thorin hissed at the intrusion. At this point, he could only thank his stars that Bilbo had insisted on this step. Even with his eyes closed, he could see Bilbo’s not-in-any-way-unimpressive erection.

It had been unintentional, the first time Thorin had peeked at it. Bilbo had woken up in the middle of the night and used the chamber pot that they kept by the bed. And Thorin had opened his eyes, just a tad to see Bilbo’s scrunched face in the darkness of the night, cock in hand. He had swallowed and felt almost salacious at his voyeurism but the sight had broken many of his preconceived notions about hobbits. They might be small in stature but that didn’t mean nature had been cruel to them in other...areas.

“You’re in your head,” Bilbo’s voice broke Thorin out of his revelry and he looked up to see a worried expression on his sub’s face. As Bilbo began to withdraw his hand, Thorin rasped out, “Don’t you dare stop,” and Bilbo raised a brow at him. He turned his finger around, almost as if he was looking for something. Thorin was struck by how adorable his hobbit looked with his eyes closed and his brows knitted in concentration.

“Looking for some- oh Mahal!” It was like the wind was knocked out of him. Bilbo had brushed against something that made Thorin’s entire being and soul jerk in response. For a second, all his focus had shifted and trickled down to that one point in his body where Bilbo was now prodding him over and over, beaming at his discovery.

“You were saying?” Bilbo, the clever burglar that he was, had chosen that exact moment to add in another finger, and finally, Thorin could appreciate the blurring boundaries between pain and pleasure. As Bilbo’s resourceful fingers wiggled and moved inside Thorin, he couldn’t help but reach for his cock. He pumped it a couple of times before establishing an iron grip at the base.

“Another,” Thorin rasped out, knowing how thin his control was becoming at the hands of his hobbit. Bilbo withdrew and came back with three fingers, and Thorin moaned through the discomfort. By now, he had become quite sure that Bilbo was a wizard when it came to carnal pleasures and a part of him worried that he wouldn’t be good enough.

“You would be fine,” Bilbo muttered, slipping the fourth finger in, in Thorin’s confusion. He was now constantly brushing against the sweet spot inside Thorin and it was becoming difficult for the dwarf to separate fantasy from reality. Thorin realised that he was mumbling now, thrashing around, and unable to stop himself from thrusting in his own firm grip.

“Now, please now! Bilbo, I need-” He opened his eyes, not even ashamed to plead anymore. Bilbo blushed at his words and the desire he saw in Thorin’s eyes, and quickly withdrew his fingers. After pushing a pillow under Thorin and elevating him off the mattress, Bilbo poured more oil over his own cock, which was leaking copiously, and lined himself against his dom’s opening.

He guided himself in and studied Thorin’s expression, his hands immediately pushing strong thighs apart and pulling them around his waist. As the head breached Thorin’s hole, his dom took in a deep breath and Bilbo had to remind him to relax again.

“It’s okay, you’re amazing. Just remember to breathe, love” he whispered, surprised at the needy edge his own voice had taken. He was doing everything not to ram inside Thorin’s and claim him as his own. Thorin nodded at Bilbo.

“Do it, claim me!” He roared and Bilbo did. His first few thrusts were erratic as Thorin thrashed around him, his hand immediately flying to his own cock and pumping. After a while, they established a rhythm and moved in tandem. Bilbo started slowly, not wanting to come before his dom. After all, that was the point of claiming, and he teased Thorin until his cock brushed against the bundle of nerves he had found before and Thorin clenched so beautifully around him that Bilbo couldn’t stop himself from fucking his dom into oblivion. The sounds of skin slapping against skin were like fireworks in Bilbo’s mind, and he was quietly chasing the promise of white light. He looked at Thorin and saw him struggling to find his own. That was when Bilbo unwrapped his dwarf’s legs from around his waist and put them over his shoulders. He had lost all sense of weight or Bilbo would have found them pretty heavy.

This slight change of position helped Bilbo bury himself to the hilt in Thorin and Thorin’s moans gave him the confirmation he needed. He added his own lubricated hand to Thorin’s cock and together, they pumped each other to completion. As Thorin came and stilled around him, coating Bilbo’s chest with ribbons of cum, it took every bit of willpower for the hobbit to stop for a while as his dom recuperated. Bilbo gently rocked into Thorin, trying not to abuse the oversensitised flesh further but when Thorin opened his eyes and smiled at Bilbo, he almost lost his last shred of control.

“Go on, I want to see you come,” Thorin was beaming as his legs came down and wrapped around Bilbo’s waist securely, ankles digging into his back and pulling him further in the wet and tight cavern.

For the first time that night, Thorin was able to see Bilbo’s descent into madness and utter abandon as his hobbit drove into him with sheer purpose, chasing his orgasm.

“You’re so good, so amazing,” Thorin couldn’t stop whispering, despite the slight discomfort he felt. Beads of sweat were glistening on Bilbo’s forehead and he looked utterly debauched. Right before he came, Thorin was able to catch the wondrous expression on his face and his own broken name on his lips before Bilbo coated his insides and collapsed right on top of him. For a few seconds, Thorin’s hands couldn’t stop caressing his back as Bilbo rode the aftershocks and he actually let out a hissing growl when Bilbo slipped out of him.

Thorin immediately rolled them over and was rewarded with a tired guffaw from Bilbo. When he kissed his sub and made to move away, Bilbo made a noise of protest.

“Give me a moment,” Thorin whispered against his mouth and quickly wet a rag against the now cold bath water. When he wiped Bilbo clean with it and ran it over his belly, Bilbo squirmed under him and sighed. It was the sheer domesticity of the moment that let the gravity of the day sink into Thorin.

Bilbo opened his eyes, sleep already at home there.

“That was nice,” he muttered, turning towards Thorin and trying to pull him down to sleep next to him. Dropping the rag in the chamber pot, Thorin allowed his sub to manhandle him till Bilbo was practically lying on top of him.

He found the braid at the side of Thorin’s head and began unbraiding it, smiling carelessly like this act still didn’t make Thorin fall in love with him all over again.

“Wait! I almost forgot,” Thorin waved his hand under the bed till he found his coat. He searched for something in it and Bilbo saw that there was a hidden pocket inside it that he had not seen before. He drew two beautiful wooden beads from inside it, smiling shyly at Bilbo’s awed expression.

“Did you actually make these?” When Thorin nodded and offered them to Bilbo, the hobbit was instantly lost in his careful examination of the paper thin engravings on the dipping surface of the beads. They said different things, he was sure of that.

“What does it say?” He couldn’t stop rolling them between his thumb and forefinger. Despite the raised surface, they felt almost smooth on his skin. Thorin took one of the beads from him, pointing towards the inscription. “This one has your name on it, and under here, it says “The King’s Consort” in Khuzdul”.

He found the longer curl right under Bilbo’s ear and braided the bead into it, his heart growing ten sizes at the sight of the bead in Bilbo’s hair.

The other one, he offered to Bilbo, and allowed him to bead it carefully in his hair.

“What does yours say?” Bilbo muttered, fingers finding the bottom of Thorin’s braid  and wrapping them around the bead tightly. He stood back to admire his work and almost unconsciously, his hand reached to his own braid, the first of many to come in the future.

“It says my name and “Claimed by Bilbo Baggins”,” he almost felt shy saying the words.

They kissed for hours after that, feeling sleepy but not quite. Eventually, Thorin got to claim Bilbo but unlike their previous coupling, this was unhurried. He took Bilbo apart piece by piece and it felt like coming home when he came inside his sub. The night seemed endless and when the sun rose the next day, Thorin and Bilbo were still talking.

“I would very much like to tie you up one day, when we reclaim Erebor and claim you properly,” Thorin muttered against eyes that were finally giving in to sleep.   
“Mmm, and perhaps, you could have some standing instructions for me when I waited for you,” Bilbo replied.

Yes, Thorin thought, once they were back at Erebor, their bond could be continued like it was meant to be. He knew how subs - and his sub in particular - craved at their dom’s attention. Knowing that their doms cared enough to cater to their need to please made a sub very happy indeed. On the journey, it was impossible, but when they were home, they could do it. And he could indulge in Thorin’s need to protect and cherish. Thorin and Bilbo slept with their bodies aching but hearts filled to the brim, the promise of a bright future braided in their hair.

  
  


 

**coda**

 

 

 

Eventually, they left Beorn and many things happened to the Company. Thorin lost himself to gold sickness and almost lost his one true treasure. Bilbo almost convinced himself that he would never have his King back and on the final day of the battle, he almost thought he would die over Thorin’s mangled body. However, luck shone on them, like it had all those days ago in Beorn’s beautiful but simple halls, and they found each other again. And it took some time for both of them to repair the damage they had caused to the others and to each other. But like all grand love stories created by Mahal, it came to pass that the homeless king with a dragon under his skin and the viridian sky in his eyes met a simple hobbit who traded troubles with acorns, and they lived happily ever after.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was just going to have a friendly scene with Balin but things got out of hand and I ended up writing a negative!Balin. If you've see the show - The Missing - you'll know where this is coming from. 
> 
> Thank you for your support and for leaving comments and kudos. Do let me know if you liked this story. ILY all.

**Author's Note:**

> First Bagginshield, leave comments or so help me Mahal.
> 
> Also, switches are like bisexuals of our world where bi-erasure is common and Thorin is prejudicial against them. I might write a little something to show how this comes to bite him in the ass later. K.


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